She once carried old things, non-functional collectors items with seemingly deep stories to them.
by
msalighieri (student)
She once carried old things, non-functional collectors’ items with seemingly deep stories to them. There were shells, trinkets, sketches, photo snippets and de-crumpled letters from the years behind…when everything seemed to matter but really didn’t. Those things were thrown out now, most of them, anyway. Only what’s needed to move on. It made no sense toting around the junk and old things. Their sentimental attachments had forgotten themselves long ago.
So she came, with a box mostly full of space. There was a huge new leather-bound sketchbook. On the outside it was the exact image of an old book, which she carried anyway, already a complete chapter. In the old book there was great stuff, sketchy situations, love, heartbreak and family. It was there solely because sometimes it was nice to look back. But it was complete and not meant to be looked back at for quite some time.
