A single light bulb burning in J. Taylor's antique shop on capital square this morning lit this strange scene.

I've rarely seen J. Tayor's open for business. Every so often the proprietor posts a sign in the door saying he'll soon have regular shop hours, but I've been inside just three times in the three years I've lived here, and I walk past it a lot. Nearly every day, in fact. Sometimes I wonder if he rents the space just to have a place to keep all the great attic treasures he collects, not that I would blame him. I'd do the same thing if I had that kind of extra money.