​Amongst the greatest of cities, six blocks from Main Street where the traffic lights flickered to the beat of the street performers, is a crooked alley. It may seem abandoned but once, not long ago, down this alley in a rickety old storefront, resided TheS Alchemist. His store was made from worn birch wood. The old rings and patterns had aged heavily till they appeared like tears streaming down the warped beams. The Alchemist worked mostly in silence, sorting his flasks and elixirs by color and size. His worn old hands flickered back and forth from shelf to shelf with speed of one much younger than he.
 
Whether from bravery, stupidity, or sense of adventure, it is unknown, but occasionally pedestrians wondered down the crooked old alley and discovered the shop. The first of this rare bunch was a man in a suit. He was tired from a long day and started down the alley by mistake. His body was tense and his face sunk forming dark circles that drifted beneath his cheek bones. He walked with his head held high. His phone vibrated and so he removed it from his pocket only to shut it off, shaking his head as he did so. He carefully counted his money and placed it on the table. The Alchemist nodded and turned around to grab a rounded vial with white liquid inside. He placed it on the cracked wooden table with a bright, toothless, smile painted on his face and directed at the man. The man removed the cracked red cork and sets it down on the table.
​
"What is this?" He spoke in hushed tones.

I was your shadow, your second
hand trade--for everything you
wanted to be.

I thought your light shined brighter
than me but all along mine was
hidden inside my own thoughts.
the thoughts I'd never act on.

Now awakened to my own value,
I need no more to be apart of what
made me unaware. You're the shadow
of my past.

You were what I thought was bright but
you're as dim as the cloud that hovers
over your head day by day. You're some
thing I never needed.