I found the newest microcosm of my life this morning, and it’s my keys - wait, let me rephrase that: my “key”. The only key that I have in this world right now sits alone on a large, scratched and tarnished metal ring, and it’s the key to my bike lock. I don’t know yet whether to be proud or slightly ashamed of this fact, but it does make me feel like some sort of hobo-like vagabond.
Regardless, my key ring hasn’t been this bare since I was twelve years old when I got my first bike lock. So in that case, I guess there is some sort of solace when life comes so perfectly full circle like that.
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