The Ten Things She Thinks of When She Sees a Key

Based on the "Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird" format

I. At eight years old, she declared herself too old for a sitter. 

She proudly wore around her neck the key that allowed 

her into the house to wait half an hour for her parents to 

get off work. 

II. In elementary school, a quarter was a fortune. She would 

run with it to the toy dispenser, eagerly drop it in the slot

and turn the knob, and out would roll a cheap plastic 

animal keychain. With no key ring to put it on, she would

attach it to her belt loop.

III. The curious ten-year-old had discovered that her house 

had an attic, and by god she was going to see what was up 

there. Alas, the damp dark room was filled with locked 

boxes and file cabinets, their key holes never again to find

their soul mates.

IV. Audition, be rejected, audition, be rejected. She 

subconsciously spun the house key around in her hand, 

preparing for the cycle to repeat.

V. She was lying when she told you that those scratches on her arm

were from her dog.

VI. Her father nervously gripped the edges of the passenger seat 

while he watched her open the door, sit down, and rev up

the Mustang for the first time.

VII. A new door to the new apartment, 

in a new city in a new country on a new continent.

This life was hers now.

VIII. She slipped the key ring around her middle finger, 

and they keys jingled when she raised it in response

to a discourteous remark.

IX. For once, she remembered to stop by the post office 

on her way home. Inside PO Box #9804 was a love letter

from him, dated three months ago.

X. The soil of the town had not supported her feet in a decade. 

The house was empty, the plants dead or dying. Every item within

had been left to her.

Drawing a deep breath, she took out the key she had owned

since she was eight years old, and inserted it into the lock.

Author's Note

What do you think?