I don’t really know what it is that Ron’s holding. A sort of pipe. I think it’s Romantic to call it an Opium pipe. Claire got it for me in Burma, I think. She traveled a lot this summer.
The metal smells like some memory of mine. We used to have these wall-hanging brass plates which I’d polish. And other metal things, like the coconut-oil lamps we lit on Birthdays. So, I like the little artifact. Arty Fact.