On a quiet corner of town, right where the street curved to meet the main avenue, stood a small shop. Mr. Timothy’s pharmacy was modest and smelled of peppermint, with shelves packed full of perfectly arranged boxes and bottles. People came and went with prescriptions in hand, their steps weary and their eyes dulled.
One of the most faithful customers was Mr. Romwald. An elderly man, thin as a coat rack, who always wore a gray beret and shuffled his feet when he walked.
He lived alone in a top-floor apartment, where all the clocks had stopped and the windows remained forever shut.
Every Monday, without fail, he came to the pharmacy to pick up his pills for sadness. He never greeted anyone, never smiled. He just paid, tucked the little box in his pocket, and disappeared.
— The usual, Timothy — he’d mutter in a tired voice, without looking up — To keep going… same as always.
— Here you are, Mr. Romwald — the pharmacist would reply with a discreet smile — Have a good day.
But what Romwald didn’t know was that someone else lived in that pharmacy.
Pharmina was a very clever Magikito, wearing a colorful jacket made from medicine labels, buttons from syrup bottle rings, and a thermometer to hold her hairdo in place. She hid among the tea sachets and ointment tubes, and whenever someone entered with a heavy heart, her magical little nose detected it instantly.
That Monday, Pharmina felt the echo of Romwald’s sadness from the moment he crossed the threshold. She watched him approach the counter with downcast eyes, ask for his pills, and turn to leave as always.
That’s when she acted.
With the speed of a leaf on the wind and the delicacy of a sigh, she slipped to the shelf and switched the pill box for one that looked identical on the outside, but was very different inside. Inside that little box was a tiny, almost magical book, with the perfect story…
Adventures in Taramundi
A collection of tales written to awaken lost emotions.
That night Romwald arrived home, put water on to boil as always, and sat in his armchair to take his pill for sadness… but when he opened the box, instead of the usual tablets, he found the little book. He looked at it with a frown. He hesitated. He whispered to himself:
— Another mistake… what does it matter.
But seeing such a mysterious cover, where porcelain elves were playing football with an avocado pit, he decided to give it a chance.
And he read it. Oh, how he read it!
The book captivated him immediately. It was the story of the Magikitos, tiny beings who lived hidden in the corners of Taramundi, a magical town in northern Spain. The Magikitos solved injustices, transformed boredom into unique moments, and spent their days collecting abandoned objects to give them amusing new purposes.
Romwald didn’t sleep that night. When he finished reading, he stood up, opened the windows, and breathed deeply as if he hadn’t done so in years.
The following week he didn’t go to the pharmacy. Nor the week after that.
— What about Romwald? — asked a lady passing by. — I haven’t seen him this week. Is he alright?
— I saw him at the station with a backpack — replied a baker. — And smiling! I nearly fell over from shock.
Timothy, from behind his counter, shook his head in confusion and excitement.
— Well… how strange. Are you sure it was him?
Within days, everyone in town was talking about the same thing. They all murmured in amazement about the news of the moment.
— Romwald has gone traveling! — the florist told a customer — And he was such a homebody!
— They say he’s reunited with his sister — added the baker — And that he wants to learn to cook with the best chefs in the country. To cook, him!
— And to find a lake where he fell in love when he was young — said another, with a nostalgic gleam in his eyes.
Pharmina, hidden behind a package of pills for sadness, smiled with sparkling eyes.
She knew that sometimes the most powerful medicine was a good story, delivered just in time.
