The Shop of Forgotten Names.

Atmosphere: An old shop, the smell of sealing wax and old paper. At midnight on Thursday, at the end of the shortest street, a door opens that isn't on any maps. This is the "Shop of Forgotten Names." People come there who feel like they're not living their own lives. "I lost myself somewhere between the report and the mortgage," says one customer. The storyteller standing behind the counter takes out a dusty box. Inside is a shining word: "Explorer." "You gave up that name at the age of seven, when you were told it was time to stop catching bugs and think about something serious." That night, the customer leaves with a new (old) name in his pocket. Now his "New Path" is not a change of job, but a return to the passion with which he once looked at the world. Lesson of midnight: Sometimes a new path is simply a return to the real "I" you left behind in childhood.