Ticket stub to that concert–you left feeling like you could fly, and swearing that the friends with you would be with you forever.
That one tiny screw that you found by stepping on it. You weren’t sure what it connected, and the day you figured it out, you realized that you had pocketed it and it was gone.
That one piece of food that could have been a cookie, a Clif bar or the crust of a PB&J; that your child handed you. You’ll never know exactly what it was, but you’re sure it had something sticky and red in it.
All of your spare time.
A business card. The one from that guy who said he had a position for you that you were sure paid double what you’re making now for half the work.
That piece of gum.
Your old shopping list and the receipt from that shopping trip. Good thing you wrote it on a fluorescent pink post-it because that makes it much easier to pick the shreds of it out of that load of darks.
The tail from your ass–but hey, at least it’s fluffy now: