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Before moving to Scotland in 2011, we put some of our belongings in storage. Now that storage space is like a time capsule we will open soon, and I am having a hard time picturing what is in it. I took notes on what it contains, of course, but when I read the words I can only see them as abstractions of objects.

We peeked inside the time capsule earlier today to make sure it was still there. Dirt and detritus had built up along the bottom edge of the space, lending a spooky tone. These are the things of the we-that-were years ago. I wonder if I will still recognize them all.

Writing from: a quiet home in Marin. Listening to: Zen snoring like sleepy questions.