Raymond St. Elmo
The key on my car key chain that does not fit any lock in the house or the car or the office. It's always been there, car after car. Heavy duty brass, slightly scratched; has 'not to be duplicated' writ on the wide end.
I've no idea where I got it, what it opens.
On good days I imagine it opens a room of my house I've never noticed before. A room full of toys and kittens and amazing books, with a stained glass window that glows like the sun turned to a kaleidoscope.
On bad days... it's the key to the lock of a trunk in the back of the basement; a trunk that smells of dust and mold, filled with bad memories turned to cloth and paper, moth and faded photographs.
Either way, the real mystery is not 'what does the key open'. But: why did I forget?
I've no idea where I got it, what it opens.
On good days I imagine it opens a room of my house I've never noticed before. A room full of toys and kittens and amazing books, with a stained glass window that glows like the sun turned to a kaleidoscope.
On bad days... it's the key to the lock of a trunk in the back of the basement; a trunk that smells of dust and mold, filled with bad memories turned to cloth and paper, moth and faded photographs.
Either way, the real mystery is not 'what does the key open'. But: why did I forget?
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Jan 07, 2023 03:58PM · flag
Jan 07, 2023 05:03PM · flag