The hinges let out a loud squeak, the same sound I remembered from when my father first bought the building thirty years ago.

The bell over the glass door jangled loudly, but nobody came to the front counter.

I walked down the middle aisle toward the back office.

The metal shelves to my left were completely empty.

The plumbing section to my right held three scattered boxes of pipe fittings and nothing more.

Dust lay thick on the empty display hooks.

The front register was buried under unopened mail and piles of vendor invoices.

“Hello?” I called.