Old Arms I pressed the button, and light glowed over the quilt, showing it to be made up of squares, each one worked with an intricate design, each one bearing a message laden with emotion. A female choir sang from the small speaker, fading out as I read how the real choir had given regular performances until the members moved on one by one and it grew too small. I moved on to the next display. So much to see. A series of photographs flickered on a table, mounted at an angle so  more...