Arthur marked the contents. Holy bread. Paperclip. Now & Later. Movie ticket. Moth wings. Not quite sure.
Arthur brought his knees to his chest. His father had to carry him out of the theater.
“There were snakes on the ground eating the popcorn. Shouldn’t we tell someone? Dad?”
In the bathroom mirror, Kenny put up his hands to fight the mechanic. The hand dryers made the sound of propellers.
Arthur was only collecting fragments from winter jackets. He put what he had found in various jars, each marked with their names. Kenny’s jar contained a book of matches. His mother’s, a prescription which was never refilled. At dinner time, he presented them as gifts.
“What were you gonna set on fire, Kenny?”
“Dad? Who’s Linda?”
There were still fifteen cigarettes left in the pack. She smoked every last one of them, all in one sitting.