“But I just got here.”
He points to another sign: Coronavirus. Reopening Uncertain.
“But I was delayed.”
He shakes his head.
Peering through the glass, she finds her regrets in boxes on shelves:
— Creativity denied and dreams deferred to please others.
— Joy abandoned for perfectionism.
— Reconciliations missed with those loved and lost.
— Travel postponed.
She sees the sign: Did you remember your pawn ticket?
Is it too late to reclaim the life I wish I’d lived?