The ilac!

It was one of those strange places, in a land where normal civilians couldn’t function without a screen or anything mechanical,  you would either be terribly impressed or petrified with some of the sights. The city, cool-toned and heavily polluted, was fueled by technological advancements and run by mecha-zombies, meaning there wasn’t an individual out there capable of looking away from their devices for more than five minutes.

Things obviously worked differently around here, and yet Vera went about her business in a spot untouched by the greedy hands of progress or cumbersome addiction: the bookstore. She sat on the little bench and flipped through the pages, not making so much as a peep, enjoying that familiar old, decaying book smell she loved so much. She admittedly felt alien at first, then eased into a sense of calm and ultimately learned acceptance for the emptiness that swallowed such a divine sanctuary.

They had already barred magic from these parts, Walden noticed: but they failed to extinguish a more exclusive kind of magic. And while she read about the dystopian future of a society bereft of reason, the stars were caught in her eyes and the time she spent in that delightfully stuffy corner seemed to pass like a warm, comforting breeze.

Vera, having overindulged, finally knocked off around the early signs of evening. Literature she found pleasing were neatly stacked beside her. She paid for her hefty selection and them from one arm to the other and sighed contentedly. “Thanks, Gwendolyn. I’m off like a dirty shirt. See you again next week . . .ish?”

She had addressed the bookstore owner so fondly only to receive a very grim smile in return. “There won’t be a next week. I’m shutting this old girl down for good.”

This was bitter news. This was also not a surprise to her. Vera knew the bookstore would outlive its viability with the likes of shiny gadgets for competition. She didn’t want it to close. Her smile was starting to sag as well. “I could help you,” Vera asked, sympathetically. “If you would like?”

The heavy-set beauty with a face like porcelain blushed in thanks. “I would accept your offer, but I can’t pay you in jewels. My daughter and I are taking Plenty O’ Books to the big web. We’ll need to save up for the new changes. That would explain the lack of staff here -”

“Just donate your books to the poor and needy,”  Vera chimed in a little too cheerfully, her gaze so glossy, so shiny,  “like me. And we’ll call it even, ok?”

Gwendolyn gave her a knowing smirk. “Or I could pull some strings and get you the ilac. You’ll need it for when our application hits the market. Visit the factory and meet with the manufacturer as soon as we’re done. He’s a very busy man.”

Vera suddenly found herself dragging her feet to the factory days later, that woman was still tired from all the labor.  But they managed to make the deadline, and she experienced healthy satisfaction for that reason. She pushed open the factory's front door and stepped inside, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her giant sweater.  She cleared her throat loudly, and it echoed her discomfort so clearly that maybe one or two people looked up before ignoring her completely.

She produced the driest laugh in existence. "Hi, everyone. I'm Vera. Oh, your enthusiasm sure is infectious. Uh, I was supposed to meet with the manufacturer."

The voice of a vivacious middle-aged man, she mentally thanked, ended her painfully awkward introduction. "Say no more, Miss Walden! Gwendolyn told me you were coming for your brand new phone. I'm excited to show you how the ilac works. Come, come, come! Let's get cozy. This will take a while."