The Things We Leave Behind
Yesterday I found a pair of gloves in the garage. I’d forgotten about them. They’re paint spattered, fierce with abandonment. I’m of an age when I need to be careful about my Leave Behinds, and while I wouldn’t throw these gloves out—they’re too precious and just the right fit now—I wondered about the stories they tell.
What about your characters, what do they leave behind? I’m not talking about accomplishments or journals or objects they’d place with care and bury in a box. I mean their droppings, their trail mix—coffee cups with rings of lipstick, candy wrappers, broken buttons, ticket stubs, recipes stuck in cook books. What’s in their purses? The pockets of a forgotten coat? What stories do they tell?