The glove man

The opportunities were endless, so many varieties of different gloves were pinned up on the wall, different fabrics, styles and colors, this shop had every form of glove you could wish to have, and I only wanted a normal black pair now that winter was here but this shop turned my head with so many options and possibilities. The prices ranged from varied from a pound right up to £100, all the gloves were hand made by the owner and it was definitely the best place to buy gloves, according to the signs displayed in the window that is. All the gloves were pinned up against the wall, they would be on the far wall facing you as soon as you walked in, the owner stood leant against the banister wearing velvet blue gloves and a denim jacket covered in what looked like red paint that was definitely not recent as it was stained into the fabric. In front of him stood a black crystal stone table which had a rather large glove on it, it’s almost as if he was catering for giants as well.
The gloves weren’t categorised they were just pinned up on the wall and you could look 1 by 1. They were pinned on a poorly painted white wall, like when you do one coat of paint then leave it, that’s what it looked like. I questioned myself over whether this is a safe place, one minute I could be buying gloves, the next I could be in his basement with no escape in sight. It was small enclosed room, the large circular table making me feel more enclosed, he said nothing, he merely stood there and as I stood there deciding whether to have a look at the gloves I heard a rather loud scream from what sounded like the basement right underneath me, it was loud enough that the owner knew I heard it and from there I feared for my safety…