A heart of steel can love as well

On a warm Saturday morning, a rustle and bustle can be heard coming from the city of Cologne. People of all ages and sexes, simply walking and talking, laughing and mingling with each other are filling the streets, enjoying the morning sun. It is the 13th of January, the day before Valentine's day. The day where either peoples lips, eyes, or depressions were the highest after.

Milling through a back street with few people to block one's way is a young man around the age of 20. His long blonde hair neatly styled and combed back, together with his slanted and warm, green eyes make him exude a sense of education and caring.

This, coupled with the long grey coat hugging his rather tall frame of 1,85 metres and his thusly pronounced broad shoulders, adds an effect of firmness and dedication to the previous impressions while reinforcing them as well.

As many other people do on this day, he is regarding the shop's various products through the shop-windows.

Boots and coats were all reduced in price this time of the year and the many sale offers were all stacked up to fit into every of the shop-windows.

Mannequins were lined up en masse, every single one wearing a different outfit, directed after the newest fashion styles of tons of labels, to lure the helplessly curious window shoppers into the depths of the stores.

When these poor souls went inside, an ambush was sprung immediately with a unit of sales clerks surrounding the target to cut off all possibilities of escape. The whole of them, ready to pounce at a moment's notice, would then select one of their own to 'help out' the prisoners by finding ways to get their money in return for as many products with the biggest possible amount of sales offers. Although many people may say about themselves that they are able to not be influenced by big corporations and labels and that they are even able to construct their own sense of taste in regards to what they ultimately want to buy, this just isn't right.

The helpless fly is following a new fragrance it tasted in the air, finally reaching the destination and seeing the beautiful blossoms of a plant. Drawn in by their beauty, the fly reaches the beautiful origin of the new fragrance detected previously and tries to inspect it.

At that point the Venus flytrap strikes and imprisons the new prospect for food in it's maw.

Inside, the fly will then die a horrible, slow and drawn out death, it's parts being slowly dissolved by acid and in the end devoured, leaving no traces at all.

The fly will never know how it's life came to an end. It cannot even be called a frog inside of a well. After all, the fly once knew freedom and the vast reaches of the heavens blotting out the sky.

An existence just as pity- and sorrowful as the poor soul entering the all encompassing maw of the Industries of it's own accord, knowing full well that upon entering they will be consumed by it.

However, upon the mazes upon mazes made out of panes of glass, there is one particular small pane, in which the content behind the shop window causes the man's interest to be roused.

The window is only half as small as the other shop windows but contains a mass of articles, each one cluttering about, putting the orderly showcase of goods in the other shop windows to shame.

Standing right in front of the window, the first thing that catches the attention of the man is a very old and richly decorated board of chess, glistening in the sun.

The board's field is framed with ornaments of ivory and streaked through with trails of amber.

The resulting combination of artistically intertwining patterns, illuminated by the rays of the sun are cause for a stunning sense of beauty and elegance to be radiated off of it.

Even more impressive is the surface of the board, which is made out of unbelievably smooth looking wood and polished to absolute perfection.

Standing on each side of the board, two lines of ferocious looking chess pieces stand attention, as if waiting for somebody to take command and lead them into carnage.

The four knights, each made to look awe inspiring to the highest degree, all possess red, crystalline orbs for eyes and a mane showing so much detail one might think for it to blow in the wind if only a gust of it would pass by.

Although the bishops look to be of the same high quality, instead of emitting a sense of dread and intimidation, they exude and surrround themselves with an aura of nobility and aloofness, especially reinforced through their elegant form and curves.

All pieces are shining brightly in the sun and are looking like they have their own personality each, if only a person would leave their own to it's own devices.

Completing the greater picture are the two colours of the 32 pieces.

The black ones are looking as if carved directly from marble, adding aspects to them of the disciplined and unyielding.

Opposed to that are the white pieces, made out of the same ivory the board's framing is made of, lending them the gentle but headstrong qualities of the giants they were part of once.

An ancient relic from imperialistic times still giving off the feeling of grandeur and pride deeply enshrined in this era of the past.

Directly to the right lays a small musical box with a lid polished so thoroughly, one is able to see one's own reflection inside of it.

The box itself is made out of a dark red type of wood and small golden hinges and support struds holding the lid open.

Inside of it is a small figurine of a ballet-dancer making pirouettes.

Again, the level of detail worked into the small figurine that's just as big as a thumb is absolutely astonishing to anyone taking the time to look into this small window so easily not noticed.

Upon looking closer, not even her skin shows any sign of being artifical in origin and resonates wonderfully with the necklace, holding a stone resembling an opal.

Slightly behind the ornate, yet simplistic wonder, a collection of Rubik's Cubes in all different sizes and degrees of difficulties can be found.

The opposite corner of the small window is home to a stuffed, oversized teddy-bear, wearing a Sherlock Holmes Costume as well as smoking an old, wooden pipe.

The old british coat and brown deerstalker cap make the shop's actual age appear to be even older than it probably is.

Going upwards from the board of chess, on top of a small cabinet, a variety of musical instruments rest. Nestled in a wine red cushion, preventing the instrument from touching the cold uncomfortable surface of wood, a violin sleeps.

It's curvacious body, ending in a slender neck and a stylized scroll, perfectly aligned for any onlookers to see.

With a highly polished, black body that is trimmed with silver accents, the sleeping beauty would surely be able to turn heads left and right when used in public.

The violins neighbour, a short flute resting inside a case, desperatly tries to garner some attention as well.

Even though the flute surely is a well crafted masterpiece in it's own right, standing next to such a beautiful piece of art, cause for it to at best appear lacklustre.

The only other highlight on top of the old fashioned cabinet is a case of old vinyl records containing works of Bach, Beethoven and Brahms.

The records seem to be well maintained and would probably cause for collectors possessing actual knowledge of classical music to weep in joy.

Just as the man, having closely regarded the items being displayed, is about to turn around and walk onwards, he perceives a faint glimmering out of the corner of his eyes.

Almost hidden, at the foot of the giant bear, a small casket sits halfway opened. The object having caused the reflection of the sun's rays is laying inside.

The object in question is revealed to be a round, silver locket with a delicate looking chain and engravings on it's lid.

There depicted is a slightly altered ouroboros symbol, with the two dragons biting each other's tails forming a heart instead of a circle.

Even from a distance the two dragon's scales are easily distinguished from each other due to them being of a darker colour than the rest of the locket.

A rare smile flashing across his face, a decision is felled and the man starts to move around the building to the shop's entrance.

Opening the old door by pushing down the gracefully curved door handle causes light to invade the shop's interior.

The rays of the sun falling inside, make for an amazing side when seeing the rows upon rows of shelves lined up in orderly rows. Every single one stuffed in an orderly fashion with all types of different items, having only their old age in common. The sight easily able to take away the breath of anyone entering, arousing the feeling of disturbing an until now lost world from it's slumber.

Looking up at the nameplate reading "Antonio's Antiquitäten aller Arten" , which roughly translates to "Antonio's antiques of all kinds", the man finally enters the shop.

Upon closing the door the atmosphere immediately turns from breathtaking to desolate and depressing with darkness lurking in the different corners. Only a single lightbulb acting as a source of light directly hanging over the counter of the shop.

Casting long shadows, intermingling with the shop's natural darkness, is the apparent owner of the shop.

Steel grey eyes, sharpened to rival a razor's edge critically scrutinize the one intruding this world of his.

The man looks to be around the age of 60 and wears a checked shirt with a slip-over over it.

Not moving from his position behind the counter but opening his mouth's dry lips and speaking in a gravelly voice, his words spread through the room in a barely audible whisper:

"Can I help you lad? Got lost perhaps?"

Not being put of by this, the younger one of the duo, still retaining the smile adorning his features, replies while scratching the back of his head:

"No, I think I'm definitely in the right place. And I think you are indeed able to help me quite a bit. In fact, I saw one of your articles in the shop-window and wanted to purchase it."

"Ahh, a customer then. I rarely get these nowadays beside the regulars gained over the years. You don't plan on becoming one do you?"

"I don't think so, no offense but I'm not really into these older styles."

"A shame then, a real shame. I'm always happy to get people to show interest in things belonging to the past. Especially youngsters like you. So let me guess, you want one of the Rubik's Cubes?"

"No, I saw that silver locket in the shop-window with a heart engraved on it."

"Hmm? For tomorrow then? You sure about it? While produced around 1850 it's only made out of steel. Not to talk you out of it of course but I don't think I'd get my wife that as a gift for Valentine's Day."

"Don't worry about that. A heart of steel can be just as pretty as one out of silver or gold. I know for a fact that she doesn't like all this glamour and rather prefers simpler things."

"If you say so lad. Just don't blame me if you have to sleep on the couch. Let me get it for you."

Disappearing behind one of the many shelves, the old man soon returns with the small casket from the shop-window. Opening the casket and retrieving the locket for his customer to inspect it, he begins to tell of it's own unique story.

"The locket was made in 1852 in a factory in England near Liverpool. It's first owner gifted it to his fiancée. It remained there until the two died and their son gifted it to his wife and so on until the family was killed in World War two. It was first confiscated by the nazis and later on given to the family's relatives by the allied forces.

While they knew about the tradition of the locket, they didn't continue it and it eventually got lost. Roughly five years ago, a family member found it again inside a box originally belonging to the man's great-grandmother.

They spend two years researching it's history and getting the required files to truly verify what they found out before they finally sold it to me two and a half years ago."

"So it's almost 70 years old. It certainly doesn't show any wear."

"I polish it every day. The steel was refined to be stainless, which is why it cost quite a bit of money back when it was produced. I can get you the documents verifying it if you want."

"No need, no need. So, how much does it cost?"

"Like I already said lad, it's only stainless steel. It's not even more worth because of it's age since it was mass produced in a factory. The most I can ask for it is 20 Euros."

"I'll take it then. Can I get the casket as well? It looks very decorative."

"That makes 25 Euros then."

"Thank you, I wish you a good day."

"You too and tomorrow as well"

"Haha. Well I'll certainly try to make it so."

Leaving the shop and closing the door quietly after paying for and storing the locket with the casket inside one of his coat's pockets, the man heads down the street, the smile on his face never faltering.

Despite all the aesthetic grandeur and attention catching qualities displayed in the window of the shop, in the end it was this small and simple looking locket that was bought, now emitting it's own kind of happiness that's infectious for everyone taking a hold of it.

Thinking to himself, the man decides that catching sight of it was definitely one of the better things he did in life.

Valentine's Day could come now. He'd be ready for the day and even able to enjoy it to it's fullest.

Tomorrow would be a good day, he was sure about it.