Keepsakes

My souvenirs are physical connections to the past. Personalized items meant to be held close, but not necessarily shared with others. Things that have a strong relevance to me yet appear mundane to the general public who are not familiar with the history. Souvenirs exemplify previous relationships, preserve intimate moments shared and are subtle reminders of mischief I got myself into and subsequently out of.

My collection grew beyond what the original shoebox under the bed could hold. Now it’s stored in a plastic tote at the back of my master closet. These simple objects hold the power of remembrance and wait until I revisit them for a nostalgic fix. I’ll pull this tote out from time to time during quiet moments, when I long to retrace the paths I’ve trodden. Because that’s what souvenirs are, personalized trinkets documenting your life.

Outdated newspaper clippings, fragile to the touch, tout my achievements. Fading photographs capture the transitory sessions of passion. Inanimate objects elicit an emotional rush of my satisfying experiences. These are things I’ve accumulated over a lifetime. All are treasured and have assigned importance.

Each piece makes up the puzzle of my growth. They also give me a sense of anticipation. I wonder how the ones I’ll collect in the future will compare to the ones I collected in the past. This gives me motivation to acquire more.

I sit alone in the interrogation room, my right wrist handcuffed to the table. The Good Cop/Bad Cop duo excused themselves when Good Cop got a message, which I know was from the detectives executing their search warrant at my property. The closet tote, i.e. shrine, must have been discovered.

I grin to myself. Maybe I’ll identify each individual associated with the respective, macabre souvenir. Maybe I’ll explain the specifics behind the object one last time. Maybe I’ll go into a gory description, tearing at the decades-old scars of the living. Maybe I’ll divulge answers to questions not yet asked. Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll leave out details, creating an air of uncertainty. Or feign ignorance then ask for a lawyer.

Despite knowing I won’t be leaving this room with a tangible item; I’ll consider time spent with this new audience as my greatest souvenir.