This is from the days when photos were the same size as the negatives . I wonder how many of the people in this picture are still alive.
That gives an added dimension to the phrase 'massaging your ego'. I love the four-digit telephone number, but what did she get up to in the mornings?
Is that a broken nose, or simply an unfortunate one?
I don't know anything about military badges, but this looks like the insignia of an army in a totalitarian state.
This is somewhere in Wales where very little happens. If you enlarge the image, you'll see that a woman pushing a pram has caused a group of men to stop and stare.
This drawing was quite unrelated to the school textbook book I found it in.
This photo fell out of a romantic novel. Is it the portrait of a sweetheart, son or stranger? We'll never find out and that's frustrating, as I want to know the story.
Every day I have to decide whether to consign a book to oblivion or not. I don't have a problem with that, but somehow I can't bring myself to throw away these fragments of past lives. I can happily throw away a dreary book about King George V because I know that there are plenty of others out there, but these bookmarks might be all that's left of someone's existence.