Reflections through books, films, and wandering
To Sing (after The Choral)
I took the apartment keys from the left pocket of my jeans and reached for the right one. Empty. I checked the back pockets, my hands suddenly cold. Still empty. I touched the right pocket again. The fabric lay flat against my thigh. “I lost it.” I don’t know where I lost the garbage card. Maybe in the supermarket, where I scanned three pieces of discounted coconut chocolate cake. Maybe when I rode past the bus stop. The wind blew the shiny leaves aside for a second, and the orange letters on the electronic board said Bus 9 would arrive in five minutes. Maybe when I checked the colors of nail polish. Maybe when I put down a heavy mug covered in flourishes and picked up a stainless cup with a light green rim. ...