Every first friday of the month our town has a little collective of artists downtown who showcase their paintings, drawings, sculptures and handmade accessories and such. After making the rounds and seeing all the booths my sister and I stopped into an antique shop I've never been in before (which is strange because I've been to about 89% of them.) After falling madly in love with a typewriter from 1860 I turned my attention to a stack of unkept postcards and books on a table. In a few containers were a bunch of vintage photos and I spent the next hour looking through them all. Honestly I would have stayed longer, but they were closing up and practically had to kick us out. Before they could I bought these gems, a small glimpse into the lives of people I have not, and will never get the pleasure of meeting. I might start a little collection, at a dollar each it shouldn't be a difficult one to manage. I honestly don't know what I love more, the photos themselves or the handwritten pencil descriptions on the back.
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