Life on the streets

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Kicking at the ground while I walked around a vacant lot in  the Inner City without purpose, I discovered under leaves and  grass clippings an incredible amount of cigarette butts, beer cans, broken bottles and styrofoam cups. It was as though I was  an amateur Archeologist, discovering relics of a not so ancient civilization. I could determine their living habits and economic status from the clues of discarded evidence. My first reaction was to the amount of garbage that had been dumped there.  Didn't the City provide garbage collection?  Why had so much garbage accumulated in this vacant lot? Although, what I found to be most astounding was that I hadn't found a single used condom among the litter, since they seem to appear everywhere  I  go. I determined a wasteful, apathetic and  careless culture unconcerned with their habitat lived in the area.

Then on the ground near an ink pen, a green plastic lighter and the  skeleton of a pocket comb with missing teeth layed a key. Just a  single key, I couldn't see anything special about it at first. I  could tell it  had been there for a long while from the grime it had collected over time. It was a bit tarnished but there was a  certain beauty in its  determination to maintain a small amount of glimmer.  I dug it out of the dirt and it left an impression of its shape. I became interested in the type of story the key might tell if it could communicate.

Did someone lose it? Was it thrown away no longer needed? What did it keep locked away?  There wasn't a key ring with other keys, only the one single key.

I was keyless at the time without a key to a house, key to a car, or anything that needed a key. I did however have the key to the highway and the ability to sing in key.  I've been known to get  keyed up. I can still tickle the keys on a piano and type or text on the keyboard. I've smuggled Keys of Marijuana 

(nickname for Kilo) from Mexico to the Florida Keys, actually spelled Cayos. I've been to Key West where I ate the best Key Lime Pie ever. Who  doesn't enjoy Key Lime Pie?  I've never keyed a car, although mine has been keyed. When I was a kid I danced the HoKEY-PoKEY and shook it all around but it caused me to be concerned,  worried if that's what it's all about. 

I'm without a key to any kind of lock including the key to someone's heart. My experiences in love and romance have caused me to re-key my heart far too often. I think a combination lock would be more appropriate in my case.

The key to my parent's house I  found no longer opened the door locks. They had re-keyed  them after discovering they had been robbed  of cash,  jewelry and other valuable items. I was the key suspect in the thefts due to my drug addiction at the time.  They believed I stole the items to fund my habit, knowing very  few drug addicts  had an income to support their addiction. They never directly accused me but never gave me a new key.  My father simply mentioned that I no longer needed one.  Truthfully I didn't steal the items.

I  rubbed the key on  my pant leg in an attempt to restore its luster. I held it above my head trying to catch the sunlight's reflection causing it to sparkle. It changed from a  piece of discarded metal into a beautiful shining key.  Once again I had a key in my life and wondered if I ever found the lock would it still work?  It was then I realized the key does work! It has unlocked memories, thoughts and ideas from my imagination. I looked at the key in the palm of my hand, wrapped my fingers around it and held it tightly in my fist. Then I threw the damn thing as far as I could. I didn't need it reminding me of my screwed up homeless life and everything that I didn't have. I had finally learned to leave well enough alone. After times in the past when I had gone so far as to date it. I finally realized it was most likely the key factor attributing to my demise.

A couple of weeks later walking through the same lot I noticed the face of a watch without the band. I started to bend down to pick it up but stopped and let it lay right where it was. I knew if I retrieved it, most likely it would  turn out to be just wasted time.

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By Judge Santiago Burdon

From: United States