I run my fingers over a locket

And I remember a memory that isn’t mine

Small hands push it open

And close it again with a small click

Repeated over and over

Not looking inside

Blue eyes close and tears fall

Finally looking inside

At a picture of three

A couple and their child

The father comes

He’s crying too

But he’s dried the tears away

Trying to stay strong for the chidl

He takes the child’s han...

I walk in and the old bell above the door chimes like it has thousands of times before, never tiring of a friendly face. Rows upon rows of treasures line the walls and the familiar scent of the shopkeeper’s coffee winds itself through the shelves. I find my home here, within the leather-bound books that swell with stories, within each and every memento that lines miles and miles of chestnut shelve...

Each antique brings back memories. The store is so old, it’s part of my childhood. “Pick one, any one” the man behind the desk said. I ran my hands against the brown, worn tables and eyed the vases and china. But one antique was special. It was a clock, older than the store itself. I heard a faint “tick, tock”. I felt the sides and suddenly, the store started to change. The items looked newer, and...

It was a rainy day at Watch Hill, Rhode Island. So, with nothing else to do I wandered around the antique store. Filled with old curiosities, I did have to laugh to myself the amount of money people were willing to spend on, well, junk.

I happened to glance at a old lobster cracker. It was quite lovely, and looked welled used. It wasn’t destroyed, but you could tell that it had seen many a ...

I reach for Meinkampf and begin to finger the pages cautiously. I’ve heard and read so much about Adolf Hitler. An unbelievable unifying leader but also an absolute butcher of the worst kind. A man with the ultimate plan. A man who would allow nothing to stand in the way of his world domination. He had ideas and ambitions rarely matched in the world since his rein.

Now what do our leaders aim fo...