Inside No. 9 Today

The End.

My face was blank, devoid of expression. And on my forehead, in letters that seemed to shift and writhe like a living thing, was written: " Anonymous". inside no. 9

In a small, forgotten alleyway, a peculiar shop stood like a wart on the face of the city. The sign above the door read "Memories Bought and Sold". The store's window was a jumble of oddities: yellowed photographs, antique clocks, and dusty vials filled with swirling mist. The End