Antique

I have a lot of antiques in my house. Things that were handed down from my parents and grandparents. I often look around at my furniture, my belongings, and think, “I wonder what my house would look like if I picked out everything I have for myself?” It’s an idle thought, because that will never happen.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “antique.”

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Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

9 thoughts on “Antique”

  1. I told my four year old niece to call me “Aunt Tique” (get it, antique) when she asked me how old is am…I’m 38 & will be 39 in a few weeks. She, being four, didn’t get the joke. My brother in law (who is as sarcastic as I am) thought it was pretty funny, though.

  2. “Antique am I? I’ll show you!”
    I believe those were my last words, heard by everybody in the bar the night I died. Ironic that when I landed here, the vigor of my ectoplasmic essence was relatively meager compared to most others. I thought that when I died I was going to get a new and perfect body. That or no body at all.
    This is going to take some getting used to.

    1. “Antique am I? I’ll show you!”
      I believe those were my last words, heard by everybody in the bar the night I died. Ironic that when I landed here, the vigor of my ectoplasmic essence was relatively meager compared to most others. I thought that when I died I was going to get a new and perfect body. That or no body at all.
      This is going to take some getting used to.

  3. Her demeanor was that of an antique treasure passed down from generation to generation and positioned with pride. That she saw herself as a valuable relic from an earlier age was clear. Her value to others less so. To them she seemed cumbersome and anachronistic. She waited, knowing her fate was speeding towards her.

  4. Ah well, at the age of seventy-six she definitely felt pretty much that she was an antique. She wished society venerated their seniors the way they do in Japan. She thought it too bad that wasn’t the case in the U.S. As she aged she absolutely could sense the not so subtle ways in which people treated her differently. She used to garner many compliments in her youth about her beauty and personality. For some strange reason just because she’d aged that completely stopped. It didn’t seem to matter that she was still attractive and carried herself with a graceful air. She didn’t mind the absence of wolf whistles or the stares she used to receive. That was a relief. What she did mind was the obvious attitude of dismissal. There were moments she felt as if she was invisible. No one seemed to care what she thought. No one seemed to care about how she felt. No one seemed to care.

  5. The word “antique” conjures, for me, a living thing; something of value; something of beauty; something with an ongoing history. Why anyone would think of using the word “antique” as put-down , I really can’t imagine. Antiques are story-carriers. What are the “treasures” of ancient civilizations that we revere – and mourn when destroyed by war or other violence if they aren’t antiques? Antiques inspire art in the form of poetry, song and visually in painting and photography. Antiques are symbols of creation, of life.

  6. To be authenticated as an antique the item must be one hundred years old and upward. Although, I may not meet the criteria to be defined as such my body and mind are a ratio that can be expressed.

    Unfortunately, there is not in existence a measured formula to slow the pathological processes of ageing. By which the detriments are most severe to one’s body in comparison to the curative effect of​ one’s mind. As the latter benefits in the acquisition of wisdom, the other is inherent to the tragic adverse of decline.

  7. Call me vintage, call me antique
    but I like my men in pants that fit.
    Just my opinion, not a critique,
    but a man with quick wit
    and his shirt tucked in,
    that’s the men I like to see.

    I guess it’s old-fashioned
    and way out of style
    a quaint little notion
    if a man aims to beguile
    by opening doors and pulling out chairs.
    But men who are mannered,
    with neatly cut hair,
    Girls let me tell you,
    they’re exceedingly rare.

  8. She slowly removed the hat from a very colorful but now faded hat box. Three hours past since Jane climbed the rIckety
    staircase to her late grandma’s attic. She was mesmerized by the family history bottled in this space . She caressed the wide brim blue velvet hat topped with an ornate grey and silver ostrich plume. Sweet , she thought , this is one antique that will not see the auction.

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