I’m window shopping for my friend’s birthday, and the sign in Edwardian script catches my eye. Funny, I’ve walked by the Curiosity Shoppe maybe a dozen times, I guess. I must not have noticed it. It’s in one of the older buildings on the tiny street. Probably the perfect place to find something for Tom. There could be a random paperweight in the shape of a raven’s skull or something else weird that Tom would cackle over with glee. He’s a strange guy. Pulling at the heavy door, I let myself in to the tinkling of a bell. Inhaling deeply, I first notice the smell. Soft and acrid. The smell of decay,…