“Do you collect?”
“In a manner of speaking.” He set the figurine down and his old, shrewd eyes swept the display, pricing, cataloging, dismissing. “I’m Tom Ashworth. Got a shop here in Front Royal.” He took a business card from his breast pocket and offered it to Dora. “Accumulated so much stuff over the years, it was open a shop or buy a bigger house.”
By Glenda Green - Own work, CC BY 3.0,
17 Things You Won’t Believe People Actually Collect
“People collect, Skimmerhorn. Often they don’t even realize it. Didn’t you ever have marbles as a boy, or comic books, baseball cards?”
“Sure.” He’d had to hide them, but he’d had them.
She lined the box with tissue, working quickly, competently. “And didn’t you ever trade your cards?” She glanced up to find him staring down at her hands.
“Sure I did,” he murmured. His gaze lifted, locked on hers. He’d felt something watching her work that had gone straight to the gut like a hot arrow. “Just like you played with dolls.”
“Actually, I didn’t” She couldn’t quite manage a smile. For a moment there, he’d looked as though he could’ve taken her in one quick bite. “I never liked them much. I preferred imaginary playmates, because you could change them into any character you wanted at the time.” With more care than necessary she fit the lid with its gold-embossed DORA’S PARLOR onto the box. “What I was getting at is that most children collect and trade. Some people never grow out of it.”