Story Cube Prompts: Light Bulb – Magnifying Glass – Book – Cane

Wednesday. As it was his custom every week on this day, Adrien left early for his scavenging hunt at the Goodwill store. He could not remember exactly how long ago he had begun this ritual, but he often thought that it would take much effort to face the time when he could no longer drive himself there every week. 

For now, all was as it should be, and there was no reason to dwell in advance on the imagined losses of old age. Perhaps a younger friend with an equally creative mind might delight in the weekly escapade in his later years and take him there without hesitation. Everything was possible. The very nature of his quest was proof of this. 

The habit had started long ago, once upon a Wednesday when Adrien found himself in need of new shirts for the summer and did not want to spend the outrageous dollar amount such a simple piece of garment typically required if purchased in a boutique. Buying clothes online was out of the question for lack of a fitting room, even though returns were free. Just a waste of time and energy, thought Adrien. What’s more, you could not feel the fabric between your fingers or see its true color before buying.

Thus, he set foot in the closest Goodwill store on that particular Wednesday. Immediately, he has struck with the same feelings a young child might experience upon entering a gigantic toy store. In fact, he remembered this feeling precisely and recognized it at once. What a delightful guilty pleasure this could be, mused Adrien. 

He must have spent over two hours in there that time, but his time was far from limited to finding and trying shirts. These were secured promptly, leaving plenty of opportunity to explore the various frames, boxes, knickknacks, toys, fabrics, bibelots and kitchenware items that lined row upon row of shelves. Adrien had spotted this abundance of enticing objects from afar and could simply not resist the pull. 

His shelves at home were lined with the same, as well as fabrications straight from his head that he had put together using odd and fantastic finds from his weekly trips to Goodwill. Some items he had meant to sell but never did. He enjoyed seeing them there, in all their colorful and architectural glory, pure evidence of an imagination that demanded to be expressed; pure evidence of creative freedom.  

There was that collection of various wood boxes he had refinished by pasting beautiful scrapbook paper to their drawers and painting their frames. Some of these had become gifts to friends and family; others now served as receptacles for the beads, buttons and other findings Adrien used in his creations. Some had never been transformed at all. Objects that had lived their own independent lives in homes, perhaps even hundreds of miles apart, could come together in the instant of an idea in Adrien’s mind. The resulting pieces might be practical or decorative; all were simply visually surprising. Some were stunning. All were loved by Adrien. 

He reflected on the many finds he had taken home and the many afternoons he had spent engaged in creation; engaged in feeling fully alive and fully at one with something, perhaps merely with the need to create. And it is in this precise moment that his gaze fell upon a stunning magnifying glass with a dark, cherrywood handle and brass frame. He had read somewhere that, despite popular thinking, these were not used for reading. Instead, they were mostly used by post-masters, who were also the bankers of their time, to ascertain the legitimacy of stamps and large notes.  

Next to the magnifying glass was a book, or rather what appeared to be a book. For Adrien’s expert eye recognized at once that it was indeed a box, and he could not resist boxes, especially one as pretty and intriguing as this. If someone had looked at his eyes when he was thus captured in the hunt, they might have thought he was a robot or an alien. For they scanned the shelves rapidly, left to right, diagonally, up and down, as though programmed to find some elusive object. He was utterly focused and already imagining what might become of each item as he added them to his basket. 

The total was always the same at the cash register. Somehow, Adrien always spent about $40 whether he added clothing items to his treasures or not. It was well worth it, even when multiplied by four weeks, since he always sold enough of his creations at two gift shops to actually net a small profit. Besides, that was not the point. The point was to create, to build, to transform.  

Adrien could not imagine anyone endowed with his sort of imagination not choosing a lifestyle that allowed at least for a minimum of this irresistible need to create. That, he believed, must be absolute agony, to spend a lifetime behind a desk, raking in high salaries and benefits, all the while never bringing to life the artful and playful objects that bombarded the mind. He also believed that much depression, and even suicide, could be averted if the artistic mind were allowed to play, freely, for no other reason than to see for itself what it could do. It is so uplifting. 

Today, Adrien came home with the book-shaped box, the magnifying glass and a light bulb like the ones used in the first television sets. An image had begun to form in his mind of a contraption unlike any other he had created before; something that would be a true conversation piece when it found its proper resting place among all his other creations.  

At moments like this, Adrien felt so alive that he even forgot to use his cane when walking around the store or the house. In fact, his body became strong and nimble as it had been in his youth. At moments like this, he had no doubt that he would live healthy and long enough to drive himself to his mid-week treasure hunt for decades yet.