Eight months ago, my life was reduced to a single, solitary key. Over the previous several years, I’d had house keys; mailbox keys; fence gate, storage shed, and yard hydrant keys. My one, remaining key still resides on a keychain labeled, “GOAT GATE”.

Author: Bix

The unsupported use case of a mediocre, autistic midlife in St. Johns, Oregon —now with added global pandemic.