His keys to my old place before we moved in together.

A JFK 50 cent piece.

Temporary tattoos. I thought we’d used them all.

Fangs, adult size.

The silver case he gave me for my now obsolete purse calculator.

False eyelashes, (which my ophthalmologist now forbids).

Earplugs we used when we went to hear the kid’s garage band play.

Hypnosis tapes for losing weight.

A perfume bottle with the scent he chose for me.

An LED headlight for power outages.

Money, in the clip I gave him.

His glasses.

Kleenex.

Virginia Braxton