kerry butcher

selected works
about

My car was broken into last night but oddly nothing was damaged or broken; the person just turned my car inside looking for something of value. I think they were frustrated by my bounty of RnB and high school mix cds; they were scattered, even outside the car. The trash of my collected papers was mountainous. It took me a moment to register what had happened. It felt right not to clean up the mess straight away. I could now temporarily sit with my very own curated disaster. Everything from the glove compartment was now riding shotgun, no further hiding. The perpetrator curiously left two meaningful things for me on the driver’s seat: their aviator sunglasses with yellowed nose grips and my own unopened pine tree air freshener from my now empty glove compartment. A comfort in realizing I didn’t sleep-trash my own car looking for answers. I opened up the tree to put on the rear view. New car scent.