Once upon a time, in this very place, they sold furniture and antiques and random knickknacks from around the world.
The space remains unused now.
But it could house a band. A bar. An artist’s studio. (Even a photography studio.) Racks and racks of wine. Vegetables in barrels. Pecans. (It’s close enough to Georgia to get the freshest pecans.) An abridged acting troupe. A printing press. Dice makers. Poker tables. Books.
Now, it sits unused. Forgotten. Empty.