The compote is a versatile vase. It is perfect for creating horizontal arrangements suited for a dining table or a center table. It can also be used to create lush floral arrangements. However, one drawback I have found of compotes is that they seem old-fashioned. And the ones that do not look so vintage are prohibitively expensive.

My search for the right compote that blends with current times and décor started five months ago. I finally found one that seemed to be of reasonable size, style, and color. I walked into a quaint pottery store one day, mostly to get warm from the bright but deceptively cold, windy streets as I searched for my compote. The leaves were turning on the trees, and the pottery store in the old brick building, with graffiti on the walls, seemed to welcome me and my quest. I really didn't expect to find anything modern-looking in that store and yet, I opened the door with a jingle.

The store had a couple of dim yellow lights for some visibility. It was filled with all sorts of things. Dust had gathered on odd pieces, modern pieces, very old pieces, ugly pieces, and even brand-new pieces, made in China! I looked around, even as I doubted my decision to enter the store. I dared not touch anything because I didn't want to knock anything down accidentally; it would have surely caused a chain-reaction of falling things.

Amidst the overly cluttered aisles, I saw a compote sitting on a shelf. It looked attractive and was, surprisingly, decently priced. I smiled to myself. I didn't expect to find anything worthwhile in that store, given its appearance. But there it was!

I was all alone in the store; I hadn't seen anyone else inside. Consequently, I wasn't worried about the piece being snatched away by crazy competition. Little did I know at that time what competition I was going to face for that compote.

I started walking towards the demure but stylish-looking, soft-white, pleated compote. Then I heard unintelligible, whispering voices. The store was eerily quiet otherwise. I stopped and peered around cautiously. Hearing whispers in a store where I was alone was very suspicious. Why would I hear them? However, my recent brush with hearing the cats of the NYC flower district, Luna and Chestnut, who acted as docents, was still fresh in my mind. I put nothing past the possibility of another bizarre experience.

As I continued walking, I almost expected to bump into a living thing, hopefully a human-being, to give form to the whispers. I saw a figure float by instead and disappear in the next aisle. "Everything about that sentence is creepy whenever I read it. Imagine actually experiencing it!" Anyhow, there was no place for me to hide. And what was I supposed to hide from? Floating figures that my deranged brain probably conjured up last minute in the dim light? Apparitions that zipped overhead and saw exactly where I was hiding?

I laughed in spite of the grim locales at my absurd joke. I could turn and walk away, but something about that compote captivated me and held me steady. I softly greeted, “Hello,” to the empty aisles. And immediately, after doing that, felt foolish. I looked around to see if the owner had seen me. There was still no sign of any life in that store. Well, not any living life for sure.

I heard a buzzing noise. I glanced at my phone. Unfortunately, it wasn't my phone that buzzed. When I looked up, I gave a sharp but short scream at what surrounded me. Little and big figures like pixies, fairies, gnomes, spiders, dwarf ghosts, dark shadows, snarly dogs, mean cats, and invisible beings with visible, pointy hats crowded me. I could barely manage to look at them properly as I was so scared and my eyes were tightly shut. I thought not giving them eye contact would make them disappear. However, I could not escape them. The compote was just outside the unfriendly figures that surrounded me and within my reach. It gazed at me serenely.

I could not decipher the commotion of the figures. I raised my eyes for a few seconds, and they seemed to scout me as much as I would have liked to investigate them. One thing was sure: they wouldn't let me near the compote anymore.

As I backed out, they seemed to back out too, like a cloud surrounding me. As if they were making sure I backed out and away from the compote. I dared not run. I dared not protest. The store was an overstuffed maze that could topple anytime. But surprisingly, I didn't bump into anything as I backed out. As if the apparitions were making sure I didn't topple "their" store and "their" much-cherished, competed-for compote.

My hand reached the handle of the door even as my back was towards the door. Did I turn it or was the door opened for me? I don't know. As I stepped out in the flooding daylight, cold air, and falling leaves, with the usual daytime bustle on the road, I saw the door of the store close. I sighed, in part with relief, in part with regret. I could have known so much more if I was brave and willing to put up a fight. They looked protective of the compote, and I was considered a threat, but what if I had convinced them that I was no threat?

I walked out, my mind in a daze, hardly noticing the cold wind now. I stopped by the bus stop still thinking when my bus arrived. Life was so normal once again. What had happened in the past 15 minutes?

As I sat in the bus, I started looking at images of compotes just like the one in that store. I was hoping to get a story of that compote, which the nether world also admired and would not share. I found a compote that looked exactly like the one in that store. But there was nothing special about it. It was mass-produced. I ordered one for my floral arrangements.

The compote which I got is beautiful. It is modern-looking. It is a simple design. Except it’s normal. Or at least I think it’s normal.