For a season the post kept a door, and the door kept hours. But a shop that began by changing shape was never going to sit still for long — and the shelves, if you watched them closely, were always satchels practicing.

So the outpost takes to the circuit. The traveling table now appears wherever the markets do — under open sky, behind the little chalkboard A-frame that serves as storefront these days, souvenirs riding along in crates that know their own labels. Nothing here is a closing. The doorway has simply learned to travel.

Just now the post is mid-pack — a fortnight of crates and brown paper — and when the packing is done, the circuit begins in earnest. Market days post to the Visit page as they land; that page is the table’s shadow, and it always knows where the table stands.

Everything else is exactly where you left it. The online shelves never close. Parcels ship as they always have, postmarked from whichever world they call home. The Compass still spins for anyone deciding where to travel next. The only real change is a pleasant one: the shop can now be found in more places than one.