As I leaned back and looked at the floor, I spotted a set of keys on a keyring. I thought I was looking at just one key, at first glance.This prompted me to pick it up off the floor.

While studying the keys, I thought to myself. To anyone else these would just be a set of keys. But not to me. I know exactly what they are for. One might wonder why someone would hold onto a set of keys..given thier collective outward apperance. But to me, they are anything but” random.

I know that two of them are from my first car. The last three are from my old place. Personally they stand as tangible reminders. To me, they aren’t *just keys. They are representatieves of my past. They represent times in my life, that like it or lump it, are appart of me. They are symbolic of diffrent times in my life. First car, The door to an old appartment. I have tried to get rid of them countless times.
But failed every time. Perhaps to me, getting rid of them, would be losing the memory, of thier purpose. Denying they existed.