Antique Mall

Today, I walked through an antique mall. Aisles included angels and Tiffany-designed lamps while others had umbrellas, spindles, spiders with bling, Popeye with spinach, comic books, cop badges, hooped earrings, Betty Boop as a cook, furniture, spurs, learning manuals, Grecian urns, teddy bears, mayor-voting pins, spare wagon wheels, old dresses, loud clocks, Barbies, carpets, baby carriages, carousel horses, John Wayne, photos, Frodo and frog figurines, cowboy hats, Bowie knifes, knights, toys, yodelers from Germany, Yoda, Indian jewelry, Nazi medallions, refurbished cabinets, signs, double-lined coats, silhouettes, Chinese swords with covers, an elk head, Elvis dolls, a wooden bed, Yellow Submarines, Elvira, Captain Morgan, Barbara Eden bottles, Egyptian masks, milk cartons, silk lace, reasonable bargains. Yet, with nothing, I left. Unfortunately—