Somewhere there’s a homeless man with a set of keys to a black Yaris, a home in Louisiana, and a tag from Sundown’s bridle.
After a show at the Triple Rock on Friday night, I left my keys in Tegan’s car. We woke up early Saturday to find a brown paper bag in the front seat. Inside the bag was a sweater, a belt, cutouts from magazines, poetry, and a book of medieval stories. The sticker on the outside said that it belonged to a 67 year old man who was just dismissed from a mental hospital. He slept in the car on Friday night and traded his collection for my keys.
"I just want to be cuddled" was written on the back of one of the clippings.
Humans are fragile.