A wee vignette, originally written for Ricochet.com:
We were sitting on wooden crates. They must have been sculling around in this old cargo hold for decades. Longer. It was an elephants’ graveyard of discarded technology, goods that had long since ceased being traded (at least in this corner of the universe). We pried open the lid on one, carefully. Inside, packed among musty, but still-dry, straw and shredded newspaper was a lamp. ‘Hey, this is solid brass,’ said Maya.
There were even some smaller crates inside. I opened one up. Inside were disintegrating pasteboard boxes.Continue reading