vintage
Vintage content about relationships, unions and romances past.
Smoke and Mirrors
The smell of gunpowder and smoke still lingered on his tattered clothes. Rebecca had been watching him for hours, waiting for him to wake up or pass away. Helen had done what she could for him, the shrapnel which had torn through his uniform lay in a bowl by his feet, and now it was a slow wait for God to decide his fate. She gently wiped his brow, the damp cloth darkening his copper blonde hair to a murky brown. His eyes flickered fitfully under closed lids, face twitching in pain. Rebecca knew he would not feel half of what the explosion had caused for Helen had dosed him heavily with Willow Bark to numb the pain, yet she still felt the sting in her heart as she watched him react to his wounds. She was in favour of Cromwell, after all, the King had done nought but ravage his country with taxes and his push to reunite England with Rome, but her gentle nature wept for each solider and innocent caught up in the war. The man on the table could only have been a few years older than herself, the soft down of a man's beard beginning its spread like the first buds of spring. Yet here he lay, somewhere between worlds and facing an uncertain future, for fighting for the king.
By Victoria Tunney5 years ago in Humans
The Best Things in Life are...free.
My mother and I loved to drop into antique shops and follow “Garage sale” signs when I was growing up, satisfying our shared addictions of hidden treasures and good discounts. My sister was not as enthusiastic as my mother and me, but she indulged our imaginations and was generally a good sport, if not quite as willing to lose a day as we were on our own. Any time the three of us girls were out of town together without my dad, we would go to any antique shop, thrift store, garage or estate sale we could find until whatever appointment we were in town for or we got too hungry to wait.
By Amelia Grace Newell5 years ago in Humans
An Angel-Sent Antique Shop
Tucked in a nook in Noonday, Texas stands two pink and yellow buildings housing hundreds of preloved pieces. Just a single step into Our Little Corner will keep you there for longer than you should be, but not as much as you’d like to. The shift of an eye offers another item you just may die without. Frank Sinatra songs float through the air from an fm radio, encouraging patrons to dance down the aisles. No girl can deny The Sultan of Swoon, so of course we did just that, following the riffs to the record section.
By Hailey Narvaez5 years ago in Humans
Miss Oehler's Lost Book
Though not addicted to such excursions, I admittedly love to browse through antique malls and thrift stores. When I do treat myself, I am usually and immediately drawn to the crystal and porcelain items, always flipping said items over to look for watermarks and stamped makers' marks. However, it doesn’t have to be Waterford, Meissen, or Limoges to attract my interest. I often find a pretty, old, and yet inexpensive, piece of crystal or porcelain as utterly perfect in many ways as the more expensive ones. There’s just something indescribably wonderful about holding someone else’s previously treasured items in your hands. It’s as if you’re looking into an unknown individual's life and getting a slight glimpse into that person's soul, if only for a mere moment.
By Cindy Calder5 years ago in Humans
Heroic, Hard-Hitting Hedy Lamarr
Dear Hedy, You affect our lives EVERY SINGLE DAY... How can I thank you for teaching me so much? Little did people realize that behind that pretty face of yours, was the powerful brain of an inventor and the valorous spirit of a righteous fighter. You escaped the Nazi's and became obsessed with defeating them. You had to battle so many people—including the top brass of the USA military—to be taken seriously. Your brilliant innovations are STILL changing our world today, with satellite and cellular phone technology, WiFi, Bluetooth, and GPS! Below are five lessons I've learned from you:
By Karla Bowen Herman5 years ago in Humans
Dr AC Jackson of Tulsa, Oklahoma
Dr AC Jackson was a thriving entrepreneur being one of the first best African American surgeons. He carved his part in the city of Tulsa. It was known at the time as Black Wall Street. As it had so many thriving black owned banks and other businesses there. He made a name fir himself. All was going so well until one day in 1921.
By Alfred Cosme5 years ago in Humans
Your Lucky Day
He’d said his name was Donald, but I knew that was a lie. When I’d asked him his name, he’d said “Ddddonald,” dragging out the “d” as if he was making it up as he went along. His real name probably did begin with a “d,” but he’d backed off the truth mid-word. Sometimes it’s smarter to lie, especially in a bar to a stranger.
By Kirsten Anderson5 years ago in Humans
