Devon

I sit on my bed, staring at the thing in my hands. A small candle is the only source of light in the small room. It’s an old compound. Not every room has electric light.

The silvery metal feels cool against my skin, and I turn it over and over, viewing it from every angle, and becoming familiar with the object once again.

It’s been years since I’ve seen it since I’ve seen any part of him.

I can’t believe he left it by mere coincidence. It was a ...