Chapter 2:

The Antique Shop

Mr. Tinsley’s antique shop stood on the corner of Main Street, a place long forgotten by most. The old man rarely left the store, and when he did, it was usually to grumble about something. The shop’s windows were frosted with age, the bell above the door jangled with a faint, eerie sound as Mischka barged in, Charlie reluctantly following behind.

“Mr. Tinsley!” Mischka called out in a singsong voice. “Guess who’s here to annoy you!”

From behind the dusty counter, Mr. Tinsley appeared, his face scrunched up in a frown. “Mischka Sparks, I told you to stay out of my shop.”

“And I told you it’s the best place in town!” Mischka smirked, wandering through the shelves of old Christmas decorations and forgotten trinkets.

Charlie stayed near the door, hands in his pockets, avoiding eye contact with the grumpy old man. Mischka, on the other hand, was in her element—picking up fragile snow globes, twirling ancient tinsel, and generally causing chaos wherever she went.

“Put that down!” Mr. Tinsley barked as Mischka poked at a delicate ornament. “That’s not for children to play with.”

“Oh, come on, Mr. T. It’s Christmas. Lighten up!” Mischka spun around, grabbing a dusty Santa figurine and pretending to dance with it.

While she distracted Mr. Tinsley, Charlie wandered through the aisles, his attention caught by something small and glowing on a high shelf. Hidden behind old books and ornaments, he found it—a Christmas bulb, but unlike any he’d ever seen before. It was warm to the touch, glowing faintly like a heartbeat of light.

“What’s this?” he muttered, pulling it from the shelf.

Before Mr. Tinsley could stop him, the bulb in Charlie’s hand brightened, its glow filling the room with soft, golden light. Mischka stopped dancing, her eyes widening as the bulb flickered.

“Charlie,” she whispered, stepping closer. “What did you just do?”

Mr. Tinsley, eyes now wide with alarm, muttered under his breath, “The Magical Bulb…”