"This is what I meant to say," he began again, but she was not listening.

He looks at the lock, gives away another moment. He turns the key back to the left, then to the right, then to the left, then back to the right. A copy of a copy, maybe of a copy.

She did what they said. "Fight.", she fought. "Stop." she stopped. Why not keep fighting? Why fight at all? There goes an hour. What day is it now?

Three plays for a nickel. Favorite songs, B-sides, from New York City to Bakersfield, someone was pushing the buttons from the moment I was born.

Shavings and shells, clippings and trinkets. She dusts the souvenirs.  the places she's been.

Unless I was going there I wouldn't have really noticed it. Sure, I would have seen it, but I would have swore it was abandoned.