17
May 05, 2017 - 112 words
In an unthinking state I bought something for you: an empty journal. Smaller than small. It’s the size of a 9-volt battery, or maybe smaller, pages no wider than a quarter. The kind of journal we traded last year like secret school crushes, traded until the pages were nearly full with miniature jokes, dreams, fears, music, drawings. The one we lost.
I have a new one now, unfilled and untouched. Maybe I will hang onto it forever as a sadistic reminder or I’ll mail it to you as a sadistic gift without my return address. Or if we see each other again I’ll give it to you just to see your reaction.