Pre

Got into town earlier than I needed to
not wanting to miss or be late for the
school musical. I parked on the street,
threw some trash into the public receptacle
on the side walk, fed the parking meter,
and spent a little time in a bookstore
where I used the bathroom then wandered
unable to focus on one book after another.

When it was time to go, I reached into the pocket
of my jeans but my keys were not there.
Checked the other three with the same results.
Retraced my steps. Not on the floor or the shelves
of the bookstore, not in the bathroom, and no one had
turned them into the clerk. Outside, I could not see
them in the car through any of the windows. Checked
the trash receptacle. Repeated the entire process wondering
if I'd gone somewhere else that I was not recalling.

Ended up looking down into the trash receptacle again.
It was placed on the corner of the town's busiest intersection,
lots of car and foot traffic, school kids walking, people enjoying
the sunshine of an early Summer afternoon on the patio of a cafe.
Peering in, all the way to the bottom, I could see them. The receptacle
was deeper than my arm was long and it took a little obvious effort
to retrieve them. People gawked a little. I felt it, but not much.