I went for a very long walk and went past some apartments on the edge of town. I glanced at the windows because I’m nosy. I saw a room full of old stuff - an old clock, collector’s plates, figurines. I assumed it was an old person’s apartment. A room stuffed full of a lifetime of accumulation. Gifts, rewards, things that they thought they needed or deserved. All of it was the best of everything they had because it was all that would fit.
It made me think about how our lives all balloon and then, eventually, shrink back to the point that we are forced to make them fit into smaller spaces, smaller realms of influence and tinier windows of time that other people are willing to provide us with. We become condensed into those bullion cubes that sit in your spice cabinet for years until you throw them away. It is forgotten just how full of flavor we are because we’re small or too salty.
