I found it in a moldy box cleaning out Grandfather’s basement. Uncle J. was all chest hair and tiger-tooth medallion back in ’78, but like his Firebird, only faded Polaroids remain.

The leather-bound pages are blank, except for his own smudged name and a partial phone number encircled by hearts.

Joshua Michael Stewart is the author of three poetry collections. His work has appeared in the Massachusetts Review, Salamander, and elsewhere.