Valid Through June

An expired gym-membership card speaks from the wallet where it still sits behind the driver’s license. It remembers the early turnstile, the small green light, and the ordinary weeks when the person carried it without thinking; it does not ask to be used again.

Listen for close fingerpicked guitar, a restrained voice, and cello arriving only at the song’s turn. This is a quiet track for a morning walk, a cleared-out room, or any hour when an old practical thing is allowed to remain only what it is.