Remnants of Lives Past

I believe in reincarnation. Except, not in the traditional sense, not reincarnation that is multiple bodies across multiple lifespans, but one that is multiple lives across one lifespan. Maybe that doesn't make sense to you, but there are certain things that are solely attached to my life at one period of time, and while these things still exist, those lives do not. And these things, although tangible, are no longer part of the present.

In the back right hand corner of the top drawer of an old wooden desk sits a small maple box. Its insides are lined with a royal blue velvet, but its contents were much less than noble. And while the velvet has not been touched by anything but my fingers in years, its former content is unforgettable. 

It does not stand out among the other scars on my body, or even the other scars that cover my left leg. In fact, you wouldn't even know it was there if I hadn't just told you. The raised line is faded. It looks as if someone had rolled a dime one full rotation on my shin before it tails off. The exact length of a sad story that never finished. 

This is my same body, with the fingers that have touched the velvet and scar covered shin, yet I am reincarnated. These things are part of my history, remnants, of my lives past.