The Finder arrives at my mailbox in a plastic bag.

I never pick it up.

I’m not looking for anything, at least not anything it can help me find.

I suppose I need help, but that’s really not the place to find it.

The Finder is a free classified ad paper here in Bismarck, useful if you know what you want, dangerous if you’re just browsing and find something you decide you need.

For some reason, whenever I see The Finder lying on the ground, along with two other copies for apartment’s whose residents aren’t interested in finding, either, I think of the U2 song “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”

Maybe, if they had The Finder, it would be different.

The three copies of The Finder sit there, untouched, until the next week when they are thrown away and the new copies arrive and we apartment residents ignore them all over again.

The Finder finds me, suggesting I should be looking for something, but I ignore it.

Extrapolate whatever life lesson you deem necessary from this.