The yard is damp and the air feels crisp and cool against my bare legs. My heart beats heavy in my chest as I stroll passed piles of a life unfinished and a past untold. My mind is full and my hands twitch as I ask myself; where did the journey begin for these discarded items. Who would dare part with such intriguing relics? Surely this stretch of patchy grass is not the final chapter.
Each and every shade of patina holds a secret and hints of a life unimaginable to me. It's hard to contain my excitement at the thought of re homing and the idea of writing a new chapter for the discarded treasures in the sunset junkyard.
