Copyright 2011 by Valerie Gaumont
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The dusty floorboards creaked under my feet, sighing softly to themselves as I moved through the crowded shop. Row after row of forgotten treasures met my eyes when I scanned the shelves. The proprietor, a cranky old man seated at the front of the store watched my progress as I moved. I could feel his enormous eyes, magnified by his thick-lensed glasses into huge orbs of rummy green trained on my back.
His fingers were clasped atop the opened book spread across his stomach. Over his shoulder I caught sight of my sister, Emmie, making faces. I smiled and turned back to the rows crammed with forgotten remnants of the past. Emmie waited patiently for me to make my selection. She saw little use for anything not new and shiny. The patina of age never really suited her. But she was a lawyer, a good high priced lawyer, and she could afford new and shiny.