I wander on Craigslist often, sometimes more frequently than other times. Sometimes with more purpose than other times. I look into a window at objects that belong to people I do not know – people with whom I share this city, who share the city with me. I wonder if they know more about me than I do myself or have something to give that I never knew I could have. If I expose myself to a larger universe, do I increase or decrease the probability of finding things that make me happy?
I deeply enjoy the objects but sometimes I come across listings that are snapshots of peoples’ lives. Objects embodying a moment in someone’s time. Stories of the animate, inanimate. Stories of other stories. Sometimes, it is as if one is being invited to read a page from a journal.
I found this today. It broke my heart.