My morning dog walk with a 3 year old took me past this available retail space, as we were hunting down a toilet.My giddy imagination immediately yearned for an over-stocked corner shop. The sort of corner shop that stands vividly with a warm welcome in residential areas all over Britain and provides mouse traps, condoms and loaves of bread with the musical soundtrack of the owners ethnic origins. Since returning to the West Country I have yet to find a corner shop that welcomes me in, from 6 in the morning until midnight  with a cornucopia of random and yet essential goods, some of which I have never heard of before. The joy of getting the last train home and being able to buy a can of soup and some baclava for supper, in a shop that is warm, exotic smelling and welcoming is hard to quantify. But I didn’t realise how joyous it was until I no longer had it. I doubt this pretty space will ever fulfil my fantasies but there is no harm in dreaming.