She didn’t have much.

When she’d moved into her own apartment, she had pared everything down to the necessities. Her new place was too small for luxuries.

She'd been surprised at how unnecessary some things now seemed. Things that used to hold such memories.

Now, she found herself prioritizing once more, finding less and less meaning in possessions.

Dwight held up a shoebox filled with ten years’ worth of ticket stubs.

She looked down. “Garbage.”

Angela held up a sketchbook.

Pam was silent for a while. Then, “Garbage.” A whisper.

Dwight and Angela exchanged looks. Angela hid it safely away.