I was the last to leave my house. I left all the keys on the counter, except the one on my keyring. That one was to go into the lockbox on the door, so my Realtor could let the new owners in.
I took the key off the ring and unlocked the lockbox. There was a key already inside. I put mine in anyway, locked it, and went to my car to leave. But then, I paused. I went back, I opened the little box, and took my key back.
I knew which key was mine because mine is brass. It's the last original key. All the others are silver copies of mine. I was the only one to have never lost his key.
I put it in my pocket and left.
I thought about keeping it. I know the new owners are changing the locks, so that's no big deal. But that's no good. Do I want this constant reminder around forever. Probably not.
Burying it was a thought. But, where? No good.
The bitter and angry parts of me thought of all sorts of crazy things to do with it. But, I don't want to be like that.
It needed to be gone forever.
Most of the lakes around here are man-made. Most of the rivers are paved with concrete. Quicksand is a cool idea, but I'm not even sure it's real... So, I took it to the ocean.
Top down, sun on my arms, wind in my hair, I headed out to Torrance Beach.
It was a beautiful day at the beach, too; sunny and warm, with a slight breaze to keep the little sand flies at bay.
I laid ther on my towel, 'til I was good and hot, then strolled down to the water, key in hand
The water felt pretty warm, for the Pacific. I waded out, then dove under the first big wave and swam out a bit. I waited for a huge wave to come in, then threw that key as far as I could, over the crashing wave. I didn't see it splash.
I headed back to shore and dried off under the sun, reading.
I feel lighter, now. It was a nice day at the beach.
--blogged from somewhere, from my blackberry handheld. please forgive any speeling errors that these thumbs produce-- :)