Finders Keeprs by Brennan Frank

Finders Keeprs by Brennan Frank

Harry Chen was fifty years old, and he looked like a typical teacher. He always wore a tie and a cotton jacket, even in the hottest weather. For the past twenty years, Harry has taught archeology at one university in Singapore. In addition – he was a thief. Harry has always loved archeology: he adored ancient things with the age of hundreds and thousands years. It was very nice to keep history in your own hands. Most of all, Mr. Chen liked ceramics. The university often sent him to make a research when another ancient artifact was found somewhere. But Harry didn’t like that valuables would crouch in museums. He kept for himself small things that others did not know about. The thief has accumulated a large collection of stolen antiquities.

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Finders Keeprs by Brennan Frank

Harry Chen looked like a middle-aged teacher. He always wore a tie and an old cotton jacket, even in the hot sun. His hair was going thin and he did not stand up straight. He was fifty years old and for the past twenty years had been a lecturer in archaeology at a university in Singapore.

He was also a thief.

Finders Keeprs by Brennan Frank

His great love in life had always been archaeology. He loved to see things that had been hidden from human sight for hundreds, even thousands, of years. He loved the feeling of excitement he got when he held a piece of history in his hands. But his special love was pottery, the older the better.

Sometimes the university sent him to places where old pottery had been discovered. It was his job to sort out these things. The university would then put the things that were interesting in a museum where they could be shown to the public. But Harry Chen had his own private museum that nobody else knew about. He hated the idea of not keeping some of the old and, sometimes, beautiful things he found. And, if those beautiful things were only small things that nobody but he had seen, who would ever know if they were gone? So he kept them.

He had quite a collection of stolen things now, all carefully hidden in his home. They were mostly small, broken things that were not of much value. Even so, he did have some pots, rings and other favourite things that were extraordinary and lovely to see. He loved them so much he would sometimes, during the warm evenings, lay them all out on the floor to look at. He would examine each piece with love and care. Only he, he was sure, could understand their true value…

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