packing and sorting and chucking.
going through the little collected papers and meaningful tokens i’ve gathered up in my days here.
tokens like my victory pilsner.
ha, yes. my victory pilsner.
this empty bottle wouldn’t mean jack-all to anyone else, but has stood for the last couple of weeks as a symbol of something good.
to carry it around past whistler would be silly, but i’m thankful for it’s little symbolism while it lasted.
as i say goodbye, i hope to keep the good stories, the good symbols, close to my heart.
and leave the rest behind.
in the bin.