Published by Patrick J. Wilson at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Patrick J. Wilson
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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It’s funny how we collect things only to lose them then rediscover them as something never lost, like that cheap pen – the one with the collection of teeth marks at the bottom. The one that’s a horror to all eyes but its owner and resurfaces when it doesn’t need to, like around the time bills are due. Still, a strange moment occurred to me the other night. While ruffling through the soot of collectables on my dresser, the old pay stubs, bill statements, and junk mail, my eyes ran across a folded index card. The front side was free of any written marks, only a wrinkle from top to bottom. I was about to throw it into my makeshift trashcan, which was all the other shit that had fallen on my floor, when I decided to flip it over to find someone’s number. I was shocked because it has been over five hundred days since I’d last conversed with the person the number belonged to. And for good reason, I suppose.