The city streets are full to bursting with sound of taxi music blaring, sporadic footsteps, people rushing home after a long day, back to their boring lives. The Johannesburg city rush. It is never quiet, not during the day or at night. The city that never sleeps.

“That is music to my ears, Joe,” Uncle Edgar said, cleaning an old mirror in the antique shop. He was a little too enthusiastic over the sound of hooting cars. “You get used to it after some time.”

“I would much rather listen to actual music, Uncle,” Joseph replied. The sound of taxis, traffic, any mode of transport, would never be normal for him. It only brought back tragic memories.

“Ever since covid hit, we have been losing customers by the day, Joe,” Uncle Edgar said, whilst gesturing towards the store, vacant of life.

“It must be the heat, Uncle. No-one wants to walk around in this heat, let alone visit an antique shop without air conditioning.”

Alas, it was not the heat. Times were tough and people would rather spend their money on essentials instead of on used and old goods. Uncle Edgar and Joseph both knew this, but it is often difficult to admit the truth.

Uncle Edgar grabbed his keys off the counter and planted a kiss on his nephew’s forehead. “Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. Lock up will you, lad?”

Excitement rose in Joseph’s chest. “Of course, Uncle,” he said before he sprang to his feet.

“Are you seeing Zuri tonight?”

Joseph felt the heat on his face as it turned crimson. “Yes, Uncle. We’re having a Star Wars marathon.”

“You lovebirds have fun then,” he replied, a bit coy. “I am taking my little man to the movies.”

He shot Joseph a sharp look before exiting. “Remember, no entering the priceless antiques room. That is the only reason this shop is still surviving,” said Uncle Edgar, and with a wave of his hand was out of sight.

Joseph had been living with his uncle since he was 18 years old. After losing his mother and brother, he had been forced to spend years with his constantly inebriated father. But things changed thereafter when he came home one day to find his father dangling from a beam. Dead. As far as trauma goes, Joseph had endured his fair share.

But now, Joseph decided that he might just look at the priceless antiques. He was curious, and after all, what does it hurt to look? He jumped over the counter, locked the door into store, and then headed to the back.

Tell us: Do you have any fascination with very old things? If so, why?