Cookies in a Teapot

Previously Loved

     It's inviting if you ask me, the fresh aroma of vintage mildew and dust, with just of a hint of cigarette smoke. I mean it, really. It's almost nostalgic. I can't help but reminisce about the hand me down clothing, the faint cigarette smelling curtains, and the basement that flooded annually leaving a permanent mildew stench. My childhood.

     You know what they say, "One man's trash is another's treasure". I've always loved second hand stores. It's nearly poetic, the idea of finding something that speaks to you, that no longer spoke to its previous owner.

     This store in particular had no shortage of glassware, puzzles that are impossible to complete because of their numerous missing pieces, and cheap wedding bands left by lovebirds who'd quit singing.

     My hand trailed over the first rack of clothing, both new and usual textures brushing under my fingertips. Then over the second, which left a film that fabrics only earn after being forgotten about in the attic for a decade.

     Next was the dimly lit back corner, overflowing with a little bit of everything. My eyes began to wander. A chipped "I Heart NY" wineglass, partially melted taper candles, and a previously loved teapot that screamed "Take me home!".

     I held the smooth teapot between my hands. It was faint cream in color, nearly white. Full of intricate light green and purple flowers, with an occasional vine. The handle twisted, similar to those multicolored marshmallow ropes you'd get at the convenience store as a kid. The lid had been tightly secured to the teapot with clear packing tape. The teapot was gorgeous, except for a small chip on the end of the spout.

"Would be a great cookie jar." Suggested a masculine voice on my left.

     Slightly startled, I quickly jerked my head in his direction. To my surprise, I was met with the faint crooked smile of an undeniably attractive man.

"You do realize it's a teapot, right?" I responded prior to following up with an almost sympathetic grin.