As the first light of dawn broke through the horizon, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape, you, the shopkeeper emerged from the makeshift dwelling behind the store.

The radio crackled to life on the right-hand side of the counter. With a practiced hand, you reached out and adjusted the dial, tuning into the faint signal that cut through the airwaves.

The switch, worn from years of use yet steadfast in its duty, awaited the touch of your fingers. With a decisive motion, you flipped it upwards, and a soft hum filled the air as electricity coursed through the old wiring.

In response, the neon sign above the entrance flickered to life, casting a vibrant glow that cut through the gloom of the wasteland. The word "open" shimmered in hues of red and blue, a beacon of welcome to any weary traveler...