And somewhere along the line, I’d forgotten how to daydream. Thank goodness I remembered before life closed any more of its doors on me. We’re never too old, after all, to let our minds wander off for a while and smile at the magic.
If you’ve never been inside a second hand shop, there are things you must know. To the untrained eye, the disarray of what might just look like a collection of “other people’s crap” (as my dad would say) can be summed up as complete sensory overload.
I see something else, though. Maybe it’s because I’ve always had an appreciation for old things; things with stories behind them. I like to think of the worlds they might have once lived in before they began collecting dust; before they landed along the shelves of consignment shops and antique stores; displayed under white tents at flea markets.
Did someone love them once? Or were they only arbitrary items tucked away in rooms rarely visited? Is anybody wondering where their old toys went? Lost jewelry? Woven throws, hats and scarves?