Una's Apple Shop
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The snow had begun.
Una's apple shop would be closing soon.
Of all the apples gathered through the summer, only a few were left.
One more basket sold, and that would be that until next year.
Una's apple shop stands beside the road the creatures take when they move on before the snow, and so the apples sell well.
But the moving must have finished, for nobody came by. Yesterday, and the day before, only a few went down the road, and even they hurried past with their backs hunched.
Today the sun was going down and still nobody had come. The snow kept falling out of the sky; by morning everything would be white.
Una had got it into their head that the shop could not close until every apple was sold, and so went on waiting for a customer. With cold hands and sleepy eyes, Una stood there in the gathering dark.
Five apples in the basket.
If only five small brothers and sisters would come, thought Una.
It was growing dark, and Una was starting to put the shop away, when something came glimmering from far off.
A small light, like a falling star, came nearer and nearer along the road. Una thought a star had come to buy an apple.
Heart beating, Una stood at the counter — and what came was not a star but a girl with curly hair.
In her hand was a branch with a glowing tip.
“An apple, please,” said the girl.
“Here you are,” said Una.
Stealing glances at the glowing branch, Una put the apple into a bag. The girl with the curly hair looked over the shop with a composed face.
Una wanted terribly to ask what the branch was, but was too shy to ask.
“Um —”
said Una, gathering courage, as the apple was handed over.
The girl took the apple, laughed a small hm-hm, and answered:
going to return a book.
“A book,” said Una.
See you, said the girl, and began to walk.
Una wanted to know about the glowing branch and thought of running after her, but the girl was walking on and on.
While Una was still wondering what to do, the branch shining like a star disappeared into the dark road.
I'll ask next year, thought Una.
The courage had not come this year, but next time, it felt, it would.
Next year, then. Saying so, Una put the apple shop away.
The trees and the road were covered over with snow, and the year was ending.
Next year, then.