The Haunting Registers of the Dubois Apothecary’s Cabinet
The Cabinet hums with silent inventory. On the counter, penciled register notes trail off abruptly. Every vial, scale, and mortar embodies meticulous labor abruptly paused, the rhythm of apothecary work suspended in quiet stillness.
Life Among Potions and Papers
These implements belonged to Antoine Dubois, apothecary (b. 1876, Lyon), trained at the University of Paris, skilled in compounding medicines and herbal remedies. Ledger entries document prescriptions for local patrons, experimental tinctures, and correspondence with chemists. A folded note references his assistant, Clément Dubois, “complete tincture analysis Thursday,” revealing disciplined routines of weighing, mixing, and annotating executed daily with meticulous care. Journals hint at obsessive precision, mounting tremors, and arthritis affecting hand stability.
Tools of Preparation
Counters hold half-compounded mixtures and scattered instruments. Mortars, pestles, balances, and ink pots lie stiff with dust. Shelves of labeled vials rest nearby. Antoine’s ledger, weighed down by a small bronze weight, details quantities, mixing instructions, and herbal properties. Dust settling over implements emphasizes abrupt cessation of repeated, precise gestures, silence accentuated by half-prepared remedies and displaced tools.
Signs of Fading Skill
Later ledger entries reveal mismeasured quantities and repeated corrections. Margin notes—“Clément questions dosage”—are smudged. Mortars chipped, ink thickened, paper curling. Antoine’s tremors subtly distort entries. Pencil notations trail off mid-list, quietly recording declining skill and unfinished compounding. Minor spills mark edges of counters, evidence of mounting frustration and faltering precision.
In the Cabinet’s final drawer, Antoine’s last register ends mid-entry, a penciled note—“verify with Clément”—abruptly stopping.
No record explains why he abandoned his work, nor why Clément never returned.
The house remains abandoned, registers, mortars, and vials awaiting hands that will not return, the quiet heavy with unfinished craft and lost mastery.
