Where Lost Keys Go

A neighbor has been away so I was watering and collecting mail for her. Then I misplaced the key to her mailbox. I looked and looked. Felt embarrassed, consulted a friend about cutting the lock and replacing it. I emailed her, she said she had a spare and would deal with it when she returned. Meanwhile, mail was piling up inside the mailbox, I could see. So yesterday I wrote a story, Where Lost Keys Go, had a little fun, but also struggled with it. Wasn’t happy with it. But I’d let the whole embarrassment-thing go and moved on, focusing on watering for her one last time before her Monday arrival. This morning I was practicing tai chi on our roof deck this morning, and in one of my moves my hand patted the buttoned pocket of a flannel shirt I hadn’t worn for  a bit. Heard a subtle jingle,  and well, found the key! Very happy about it. And happy that I now had an ending for my story, Where Lost Keys Go ~