Keepsakes

If I could remember what I wanted to say –

It was something about the stuff in this drawer. It’s just –

I’ve never had any real use for this drawer. It was, you know…extra. So I started putting things in it. Odd stuff. All this was supposed to be temporary but a lot of it’s been in here for years. I don’t know what it’s all from. Screws leftover from things I installed. Never like to throw away screws. Never know when you’ll need a screw just like this one. Screwdriver, of course. I was looking for that. It’s supposed to be in my tool box. Or these pens. Old gum. Gum’s probably been in here ten years. Trident. My wife liked chewing it, so I kept some on hand for her. Don’t need it now. Cat toys. Don’t need that, either. Last cat I had was Jury. Big black cat. Sweetest animal you’ll ever meet. He died…how long ago was that? Shoelaces. A stone. I can almost remember why I kept this little stone. Look at it. Strange blue. Round, almost oval.

Everything in here was part of a moment. It all meant something to me when I put it in here. I can’t remember any of it.

I can’t even remember what it was that I wanted to tell you. I don’t even recall why I wanted to speak.

But there was something I wanted to say.

I just can’t remember. It feels like I should.