Tarnished, yes, and the silver plating, worn thin in places, exposes areas of base tin. Brimming with confections, and conveniently cradled in my lap, fluted lines and floral embossing reflect generations of chocoholic ancestors, some with less polish than others. Case in point. My great-great-great-grandfather stole a kiss from my great-great-great-grandmother, way back in 1907. (And the rest is history.)
This is my first time linking up with Five Sentence Fiction. The prompt is the word silver.
Picture credit here.