Daguerreotype

8

He finds a small leather bracelet on his shelf while throwing out old books and holds it to his face. A faint scent; he is floating on a swell of memory that fades almost instantly. He holds it closer but it's used up. Everything has gone. The bracelet gets thrown out with the books and all the rest of it. How long had it sat there on the shelf, biding time? They are sitting alone in dark rooms many miles apart. He feels he has knocked over an urn.