Who held this vase?
Whose memories are held within?
If objects could speak, what tales would they tell of former owners?
Would the objects have been cherished, or simply useful.
The antiques in this shop must all possess a story. A story whose owner’s voice can no longer be heard.
I imagine this vase to have once held bouquet of roses and peonies, periwinkle and ivy. I smile to think that maybe its owner was an aristocratic damsel whose passion was gardening and tapestry and tea. I’ll call her Jasmine.
Jasmine would prepare a table al fresco with linens and fine china. And in the centre, this vase, brimming with freshly cut flowers from the garden, would hold court.
I put it back gently on the shelf, knowing it now holds the memory I have given it.
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