The Antique Store

I am allergic to dust mites in the worst way possible. Yet, my ailment does not stop me from enjoying every sublime piece of vintage art that is covered in dust. Old things bring me back to a time before I even existed. It's as if I was there and reincarnated into the person I am today, only to remember the musty smell of a China cabinet from the fifties era. Hey man, I was there with a poodle skirt, okay? However that may be, here I am at the ripe age of 32 and climbing; climbing my nearsighted eyes up and down the rows of familiar Better Homes and Gardens magazines from the sixties. Even old glass bottles of Aspirin and Vicks VapoRub from the 1920's call for my attention. I am in complete aw over all the delectable and breakable things this stuffy store holds. With a sneeze and a congested nose, I turn toward the door to leave, and I wonder why in the world I didn't bring any money with me. All things considering, at least I have my pocket of travel sized tissues from the year 2011.