It had looked like a journal. No title on the outside, and a few pages stuck out a little bit like they hadn’t been part of the original binding. It was old, too, the pages were the kind of yellow that only happened after sitting around for a very long time. He’d opened it expecting to find something interesting, and had still managed to be completely surprised by what was inside.
It was a sketchbook, every page full of drawing after drawing. They were beautiful, too, even the rough sketches were ten times better than anything Davey usually found doodled in any of the books.
In the very front cover, he found a year. 1903.
Normally, he didn’t buy anything when he was spending a day browsing through antique stores. It was relaxing and fun and a way to wile away a Sunday without having to spend money. Something about this sketchbook made him feel like he just had to have it though.
Bookmarked by jxhnnysimpsxn
12 Dec 2020