The Tooth...

I was on my way back from grabbing a bite to eat when I saw something glinting in the light of a street lamp. Having found a plethora of treasures on the streets of New York, I bent down to retrieve it. Just before I touched it, I realized that it was a TOOTH! Judging from the size and shape, it was probably a human tooth at that. It was large, intact, and looked to have been freshly displaced.

Creeping along my spine was that feeling I got when we went to the Mütter Museum our last day in Philadelphia. That feeling of an awareness of physical ownership. This tooth was once in someone's skull; it was in their mouth, crewed their food, and had their words slip past it. It belonged to someone as surely as the bodies in the museum once belonged to someone. It had a story behind it.

How did this get here? Who had this belonged to? Where was the person now, whom this had come from? It made me think of all the sad stories next to the specimens in the museum. Still some of those stories haunt me and I can't help but think of them and how difficult many of their lives were.

I called 3-1-1 and they said they were going to send someone out to investigate the area, but that I shouldn't worry. Apparently bits and pieces of people are found all the time in the city.