Shit.

Her hat just blew off in the wind. Well, it wasn't so much wind as the fact that she stuck her head out the car window to get a better look at the flashing lights.

The cops probably wouldn't be too happy if they stopped to retrieve it. Another one lost.

It was her Mariner's baseball hat, the one that shielded her from the torrential rain in Singapore; the one that bleached to a dull slate gray from the sun in New Mexico; the one that she wore whenever the Mariners ended up losing. It wasn't so much a lucky hat as simply a reliable companion.

And now she threw it out the window. Kind of.

But then she thought of all the adventures it might have without her. Perhaps someone would pick it up on the side of the road and love it as much as she did. Perhaps it would be picked up be a deer or hawk and transported into the wilderness to decompose back to its natural elements. Or maybe it would be torn to shreds on the highway.

The last one was most likely. But, hats are hats, and the memories of this one would linger until she loved another one just as much.