#Chapter83
In the centre of Newcroft Avenue, a relatively busy street that was bustling beneath the Saturday morning traffic, Little Moon shop had a way of standing out. Like most of the buildings that backed the sidewalk, compact together like Jenga blocks, it held the same squat quality in structure, and harboured the same weather-beaten edge. But that was where the similarities stopped.
Looking fresh from the heart of Balamory, the brickwork had been plastered in a dark blue paint, a stark contrast to the grey granite of those that surrounded it. The sign above wasn’t neon, but for how bright and bold it was, glaring out from a thick red border, it may as well have been.
It made it impossible to miss.