steel · 28 mm · since the hem gave way
a small steel safety pin, plain, the kind sold a dozen to a card. it is slightly bent in the middle, and the clasp catches on the third try. the point is still sharp enough to draw a bead of blood from a thumb that forgets.
it was bought, ten years ago, in a sewing-shop you have not since revisited, against a moment of crisis at a wedding when a hem gave way. the moment passed; the pin remained. it migrated from the small evening-bag to the inside of a coat, and then, when the coat was retired, to this pocket, where it pretends to lie quietly.
it has fastened, over the years, a torn sleeve, a torn map, a curtain that refused to hang straight, and once — startlingly — a ticket stub to the inside of a notebook, so the wind would not have it. the pin is one of the very few objects in this collection that has more than once done something. the rest mostly wait.
field-note · close it carefully. opened pins have opinions about pockets.
string · loose button · thimble · ritual · memory