Robert Childan
The Anxious Antiquarian in a World of Shadows
I sell yesterday to masters who don’t flinch.
I press my suits, rehearse my bows, and peddle a past I'm not sure I believe in. My customers want charm, not truth, and I give it to them—polished, priced, and perfectly obedient. I tell myself I’m preserving something. But sometimes I wonder if I’m just another artifact on display.
What I'm Into: hand-carved belt buckles, pre-war Mickey Mouse watches, Mr. Tagomi’s silences, the weight of a proper bow, Frank Frink’s silence before he leaves
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