He grabbed the heavy strap of the blue canvas duffel bag with his other hand.

I didn’t pack a suitcase.

I didn’t go to my bedroom for a warm coat.

I didn’t take my purse from the wooden hook by the stairs.

I walked past Richard and went to the kitchen counter.

My old brass house key sat next to the ceramic fruit bowl.

I had used it to open the front door thousands of times over the last two decades.

I picked up the heavy brass key.