My mom and I both love thrift stores and flea markets. I don’t know what it is about them, but I love going to them and looking through what other people consider trash. Everything has a story.
On Sunday, I found this beautiful little watch. It grabbed my attention right away. ‘You can have it for 50 cents’ the lady from the stall told me. ‘I don’t want it anyway’, she said as she lit another cigarette. Of course I had to buy it.
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” – Maya Angelou
Walking back home, I started wondering about the story of this little watch. It has clearly been used and probably doesn’t have it’s original wrist band anymore. But by who? By someone who loved it as much as I do? By someone who got a smile on their face every time they checked the time on their little clock? Was this little clock once bought to be a gift? Had it been sold on flea markets before?
We will never know, and that is the beauty. This little clock, just like so many other things, will always have an untold story we can only wonder about.