out of an act of friendship

People love to collect things.

Books.

Stamps.

Autographs.

Hugs.

Memories.

I have a non-collection.

It all started with a girl at school.

Who wasn't even a real friend to me.

Her name was Lisa.

I cut out Fred Basset comic strips from the newspaper for her.

Because she loved them.

And she had a dog like Fred whom I never met.

But her family didn't get the newspaper.

We did.

I cut them out.

Every day.

For a year.

The summer came.

And I didn't see her again.

She went to a different school.

And I.

I continued to cut out comic strips.

Every day.

For two years.

It became a habit.

Out of a simple act of friendship.

Now I have hundreds of comic strips.

I haven't read all of them.

I never cared much about them.

They don't mean anything to me.

But I have them.

I have them.

I don't need them.

I don't know what to do with them.

But I can't throw them away.