writeeveryday 2.0 A month of writing, three years of confusion

this morning i found something in my breast pocket: two tickets from the first broadway show my wife and I ever attended. i didn’t throw them out. i thought maybe i’d want to someday commemorate the event with a tidy scrap book or frame, but then i realized the real reason i didn’t throw them out. i liked the way the thick cardboard of the ticket felt against my chest.