An Aspiration.

I think I would quite like to be one of those dishevelled old men who are the enigmatic proprietors of tiny emporiums set at the far end of quaint little alleyways, and of which the milling mass of busy shoppers are entirely unaware but to which the rare and needful people are inevitably drawn

And true to my nature I will only sell things which are old, incongruous in relation to each other, and also enigmatic – compellingly so.

And I will decline to sell any of my treasures to anyone unless I know them to be in need of some chastening lesson which only a well chosen item of my merchandise can supply.

And because I sell them at a mysteriously low price, my customers will ask how I manage to make a living. I will decline to answer, but they will remain assured that I do.