It’s been so long since High School ;; all those hubcaps stuck in lockers because of course they were. Scraps to pass like rush-written notes, folded scratch paper. Something about decorative junk, wheels rotating between us, distinctly outside-objects brought indoors.

The courtyard light always fell absurd.

Four years ago we graduated. Four years ago I took my hubcaps to the scrap heap. 10 cents for the lot.

. .