I don’t know much about the Oldsmar Flea Market, but I think about it often. I remember when I was younger my dad took me there so he could buy fishing sinkers sold in bulk. I found myself driving by it on my commute to college and then ended up living in the apartments a street away. One Sunday, my boyfriend and friend decided to check it out. Zaria, the girl in the images grew up with me and she remembered the market, too. It felt ghostly as soon as we started walking around. We got there as soon as it opened. My first time in the actual market. An old man selling records was telling a customer that the market recently sold for millions. I strangely felt sad to know that exterior landmark of my childhood would soon be grounds for another stretch of condos.
Don't Take Away The Market