this morning #1557.
this morning, i was still looking. i’d relocated my search to the basement. last ditch effort. still trying to find what i’d planned on removing from my life. a more rational man would’ve accepted that, because i couldn’t find it, it was effectively already gone. out of sight. out of mind. move on. i was sure that it was hiding in the house though. somewhere. haunting me in its absence. i felt it. i brought box after box off the shelf. pawed through each one. ten boxes in, i pulled off a lid. there it was. right on top. looking just as it had the last time i’d seen it. i flashed back to that. surfed on that memory for a sec. snapped back to the present. put it into a paper bag. wrapped it up tight. didn’t want to give it an ounce of daylight.