It was a bunch of lies, that pile of stuff that she proudly declared to define her.
It wasn't the fancy camera; it was the memories frozen in time.
It wasn't the diploma; it was the years of learning and friendship.
It wasn't the stack of rejected manuscripts; it was the hope of just one more chance to prove yourself to the world.
It wasn't the stash of resumes; it was the drive to find your place in the world.
It wasn't the love letters from an old flame; it was the feelings of a first love.
So it wasn't "just a bunch of stuff." That part was a lie.
It was a bunch of her.