The handle rattled for a moment on the door of a dusty little shop. There was the sound of swearing in another language as the person on the other side fumbled for something before trying the handle again. The door creaked open and the figure entered and dumped her umbrella into the stand near the door. Startled umbrellas flew everywhere, flapping their way up to the high ceiling of the small store.

The lady watched them with a smile on her face and her laugh rung clear through the store. She watched as they continued to fly around, now for the sheer enjoyment not from fear. One though was having trouble, a small folding pink one. Its movements were irregular and it was struggling to gain height. The lady frowned and beckoned to it.

"Come to Babushka little one." She said, her accent indiscernible.

The pink umbrella gave a weak flap and tried to get out of her reach. Babushka sighed and reached out her hand again.

"It will not hurt, let Babushka fix you up."

The pink umbrella hesitated for a while, bobbing up and down in the air and lurching around just a small distance from her fingers. Just as it seemed it would dart away again Babushka's hand struck out and grasped its handle. It fluttered weakly for a bit then folded in tightly on itself, quivering. Babushka stroked it gently as she made her way to the counter at the back of the store. As she went she tugged one of the black threads out of her skirt and took a needle out of her pink and yellow sash.

At the counter she took off her red and gold sash and lay the umbrella on it. It lay there shaking as she opened it up to find the problem.

"As I thought, one of your ribs has come away from the fabric." Babushka said with a click of her tongue.

She threaded the needle, then turned the umbrella upside down with its ribs all stretched to their fullest extent. Lining up the detached rib with the seam in the pink fabric she put the needle to the fabric. The umbrella jerked, folding in on itself; Babushka only got the needle out of the way just in time.

"Don't do that, it will only make it worse." She said firmly as she unfolded it once more.

It quivered each time the needle went in but stayed still until Babushka had finished. She tied off the thread and then flipped the umbrella over holding it by its handle as it gingerly tested its movement. Without warning she threw it into the air and it caught itself, it bobbed for a moment before darting off to join the other umbrellas flocking in the roof space. A bell rang.

"Customer!" Babushka said loudly.

The umbrellas closed themselves and dived, thudding into the umbrella stand by the counter. The customer made their way to the counter slowly, not noticing the way the shelves rearranged themselves to show her what she might wish to buy. By the time she came to the counter she had a large leather book and a number of odd ornaments.

"What a wonderful little store you have here, and you look like an old gypsy lady." The customer said.

Babushka shook her black hair in disgust at the term old, "Your first time buying here?"

"Yes I just moved into an old house down the way, someone suggested this place if I were looking for antiques, these will look just wonderful, they'll give the house a mystical feel."

Babushka looked at the book and considered telling her it was not for sale, but she was still smarting from the old comment, "Very good, these will be sixty dollars all up."

"Oh, the place over the road was much better prices, and had a better selection." she payed anyway and left, not noticing the puzzled and angry look on Babushka's face.

Babushka waited till the customer left then stormed to the front door and jerked it open, staring angrily at the shop which had not been there when she had entered before. She slammed the door behind her and locked it, tucking the key back into her sash. She marched angrily across the small alleyway and stormed into the other shop.

It was huge compared to hers, it had two levels and row upon row of antiques. She made her way to the counter, even angrier now, she knew whose shop this was.

"Ciano, I have told you all, none of you come anywhere near here! This is my spot and I am not moving from it." She yelled to the back room.

A young boy came out looking shocked and scared.

"Where is Ciano? What are you doing behind the counter?" Babushka said, worried now.

"Ciano, was that the old man's name?" The boy said softly, "He never told me, not before he..."

"Before he what?" Babushka said.

"Before he died," the boy said softly "were you a friend of his?"

"As close to a friend as you get in this business," Babushka said, "Is this your first time running a travelling shop?"

The boy nodded and Babushka softened. She smiled sympathetically at him then moved behind the counter, preparing him a nice cup of tea with a pinch of something from her sash. They spoke for a long time, mostly about the boy. She taught him a bit about how to control the shop better and then left him.

As she closed the door behind her she whispered, "Died, that shouldn't be possible, it just shouldn't be possible, unless someone... it can't be, but if it is I'm not safe here."

She unlocked the door to her own shop and made her way to the counter, still muttering under her breath. The umbrellas flocked around her sharing her unease even though they knew not the cause. Finally she sighed and straightened up.

"Everyone we are a travelling shop once more!"