It was a cold Sunday morning in December. I was getting ready to make my way to church but could not find my keys anywhere. I searched the house. I checked in the drawers, on tabletops, couch cushions, boxes, coat pockets, the garbage . . . I looked everywhere. I looked for hours.
I couldn't find my keys. My oh-so-sweet and wonderful sister took the bus all the way to my house with my spare set despite the fact that she was quite sick and it was freezing outside. We made it to the last hour of our church meetings and went back home to search the house again for my missing keys.
I did not find my keys that day, but I did find a photo of a mysterious girl nestled in the cushions of our arm chair. I asked my roommates about the photo. Where did it come from? Who is she? What's her story? No one knew. The picture sat there on the table for weeks. I didn't know what to do with it, and I couldn't bear the thought of throwing it away.
So, the 50's girl now sits framed on the coffee table.
And for the record, my keys are still missing.
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