If I hadn’t been reading a library book, my life today might yet be quite different. It all came down to a night I went to the gym – I’m a rock climber – took off my shoes, tucked my necklace in my pants pocket, changed my clothes, and headed down to warm up.
Pause. My shoes were my ever-present Birkenstocks, since, despite the rain, I’d lost one half of my pair of Keds (which are no more water resistant than flip-flops anyway), with one half of my pair of orthotics within, to the gods of the TTC about a month before. I’d made the mistake of tying them to my climbing harness, and at an unknown juncture, one half of my footwear abandoned ship and made a break for Never Never Land. This irony was later lost on me.
My necklace was the most expensive thing I had ever owned. It was a graduation gift from the theatre company I belonged to in university, a silver ring too small for a finger and intended for its accompanying silver chain. Both were stamped with Tiffany’s & Co. in tiny writing. I didn’t like it as much as those of graduates’ years past, [...] continue the story