Scram, kid. Get lost.

Last week, we were under fire by security guards at the schmancy botanical gardens two blocks over. And we were speculating on our companion’s take on the incident. This week, we’re going to recall another incident. This time, we’re returning to the viewfinder parked right behind our own eyeballs. This time, we’re embracing our own perspective on loss. To get you started, here’s some perspective on the word “loss,”… which is strange if you think about it in terms of death. “I lost my mother several years ago.” That statement doesn’t make sense in terms of misplacing something. I didn’t lose my mother in the same place I lost my post office box key. Yet, both the key and my mother …

Read the rest by clicking here: Scram, kid. Get lost.

post office telephone box


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