Old things

I’ve always loved old things. I have my grandmother’s cast iron dutch oven that’s at least a hundred years old. My grandmother once let me keep an arrowhead I found on her property. It seemed ancient and wondrous to me. Sadly, it didn’t take long for me to drop it and watch, horrified, as it split into two or three pieces. I was inconsolable. I distinctly recall the day I discovered a row of old books in the graduate library at university. One day I was walking down an aisle looking for a new carrel to claim — someone had…