It rested upon my window sill year after year, collecting a combination of dust and recollection that never ceased to diminish from my memory. Lifeless yet containing more life than any other living thing. As the evening rays of the setting sun pierced the crystal green glass, I saw the reflection of memories that played in the back of my mind like a vintage movie projector presenting the stories of my life. From every concert to every film, each play, and drive-in movie, the presence of everlasting memories are protected behind the walls of the green glass. An estranged, drifting bottle out at sea that contains more knowledge than the world will ever know. 

I often refer to myself as old-fashioned. A lover of holding on to meaningful elements that possess a special place in my heart. I am not someone who has a difficult time of letting things go, but simply, a collector, perhaps, who enjoys grasping on to physical remains of the past. Instead of a mental recollection of a certain person, place, or event that occurred throughout my life, I prefer to capture the moment with a real object. Rather, something that I can methodically trace my fingertips over and relive each and every second of. I always find myself thinking and reflecting upon my past experiences, replaying them over and over again in my mind like a broken record. The memories that I have are not simply locked away in my mind only to be occasionally thought of, they are precisely placed underneath the cork of the green glass bottle that rests upon my window sill. 

When I intricately placed the bottle upon my window sill, I knew that it would command attention when encountering the naked eye from any corner of the room. Through the glass, the interior of the bottle was lined with the black letterings of concert tickets and old movie ticket stubs that allowed for the nostalgia to engulf my every breath. Some were worn away and some recently added to my collection to fill the glass with various arrays of colors and fonts from each event. As I loosened the chestnut cork, echoes of voices that once filled the crowded arenas escape from the opening to fill my ears with familiar lyrics that I had heard before. Just like a time machine transports one back through the years, I, too, was brought back. Back to the sold-out stadiums, that were accompanied by blaring music, screaming fans, and musicians who captivated the audience with every move. From the eccentric pop vocal renditions of Katy Perry to the emotional rock n’ roll ballads of Fleetwood Mac, it all replayed in the back of my mind as if it had never left. 

Using my hands, I gently tip the bottle over, applying a shaking motion to allow the papers to fall onto my fingertips. I watch as pigments pass by my eyes and I attempt to read the compact letters that are printed onto each one. Gravitating towards my reach, I can feel the soft breeze push between the papers that travel down the neck of the bottle, moving in a spiraling rotation. I carefully place two fingers into the bottle and slide the first object across the inner surface. The ticket works into a cylindrical shape as I allow it to become submerged through the sunlight that reflects into my eyes. For no particular reason, the ticket that falls into the epicenter of my bare palm is from a movie that always shines light into the darkest of times. It was almost as if the bottle had the ability to read my innermost thoughts. 

Before I put it back inside, my thumb traced around the ticket. The surface remained smooth and glossy, and the corners still intact and firm. By simply grasping the ticket, I was  transported to the theatre where I watched the film amongst an audience full of onlookers occupying the chilled, darkroom. Snapping back to reality, I slowly shoved the ticket back into the glass bottle, watching as it floated down to be reunited with its companions. I picked up the cork and placed it back into its original home, sealing away my most cherished memories for another day.

It may appear to be unusual that remnants of paper are among my most beloved possessions, but it’s the stories that are written in the words that share my most cherished memories. Behind the walls of the green glass bottle, lies a lifetime of memories that I can reach out and touch. I saved these small, useless pieces of paper all these years knowing they would always exist as a place where I could go, a place where I could reflect, a place that would transport me back in time to relive my greatest moments.