My brother sent me a text a couple of days ago. The caption read : “First magnet on the new fridge!” and Scott, my brother’s partner, is gesturing and displaying thusly. The refrigerator they had prior was top to bottom magnets, all neatly displayed, with no pesky receipts or crumpled menus to taint their beauty. Most represented the cities Scott visited when he was in his jet-setting profession. I just visited them for Thanksgiving and could only crack a smile to witness like people who coat their food boxes with memories. I myself had filled a shoebox and set it out on my Brooklyn stoop one warm, sunny day. They all caught the gold and left home with new owners. Now I only have a choice few and, I admit, a couple more. Each has a story, but I won’t go into that here. There might be a Kindle novel in it. Something one can click through, as opposed to really read.