My Keychain

For the last week, my keys have rattled mourningly in my pocket. My keychain has died.

It was the only keychain that I've ever used, a leather catcher's mitt giving to me in second grade by my friends Andrew and Ally. I had it for eighteen years. But on Saturday, the last threads holding the keyring tore and my keys fell to the floor. I searched for a leather loop to reattach the ring to, as I have in similar cases many times over the years, but this time the search was in vain. There was nothing left. So I left the mitt on the kitchen counter and have taken my keys to work alone all week. My pocket feels naked without my mitt - when I stick my hand in, no longer do I feel the comforting leather of the keychain, but only the cold metal of the keys.

I miss my keychain, and I don't know how I can replace it.