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July 2013, vol 9, no 2

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Robert Davey

The Old Curiosity Shop

A curious place to find a twelve-year-old boy on a Saturday afternoon, but I collected coins and this was the only shop in town that sold them (together with medals, knick-knacks and a few antiques).

far from the crowd
the silence
of Toby jugs

The more expensive coins were in plastic pockets, each marked with a price. The rest were piled in a metal tray, which I searched through carefully. Maybe I would find an Edward the Eighth threepence. Only a few were minted but not all were accounted for. Just one would have been worth hundreds…

Apart from me, the shop was empty, except for the shop keeper reading behind the counter, and silent but for the click and slither of coins in the tray.

the face on every obverse
looking away