By: Sean Patrick Walsh

Hunting and pecking and foraging for things to say.

By: Jae Nichelle

She methodically dipped sheet music in the glue and smoothed it out onto the canvas.

By: Elizabeth Foy Larsen

Did I make the bookends to remind my dad that he had a family back in Minnesota?

By: Marissa Frayer

It was my refuge, best friend, therapist, gateway and shield.

By: Adam Harrison Levy

My hands were shaking as I unsnapped the pouch and took out my passport.

By: Kevin Brockmeier

“I made the mistake of running the saladmobile across her head.”

By: Cynthia Joyce

You couldn’t get lost; you couldn’t bend or break the notes.

By: Sarah Rich

“I hadn’t thought about WestFest in probably 25 years…”

By: Kelly Horan

There’d been a spate of bank robberies. My name was on the registration found in the getaway car.

By: Jeff Lewonczyk

Jeff Lewonczyk on VELVET SCRAP

By: Ian Bogost

You could slam the receiver down to hang up on someone.

By: Kevin Obsatz

I had to promise not to “use them on anyone.”

By: Tom Nealon

“What do you think, you own tacos now, or something?”

By: Allegra Huston

Over the left breast it reads “’79, Legs”: my nickname and the year I became a member of Skataway.

By: PROJECT:OBJECT

Kicking off a series of 25 true stories about objects that evoke vanished eras.