Chapter 40 - THE LOCKI kept the broken brass lock.

For a while.
Evidence returned after trial.
I put it in a drawer.
Then realized I hated knowing it was in the house.
Emma found it accidentally.
She stared.
“Is that mine?”
I crouched.
“It was.”
“Can we throw it away?”
“Yes.”
We drove to the county recycling center.
A worker asked:
“Scrap brass?”
Emma said:
“Yes.”
He tossed it into a metal bin.
Clang.
Emma flinched.
Then looked at me.
“Gone?”
“Gone.”
Not really.
Memory does not obey recycling rules.
May you like
But object gone.
That was something.
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