[ WP ] you acquire a small piece of plastic that seems worthless you keep it and then many weeks later A man Knocks at your door asking about the piece he says his name is Keith and he wants it . He is willing to do anything to get it .

Small, blue, and worn with a small insignia of a gray circle with several lines through it, it seemed worthless, but I happily kept it in my pocket as a good luck charm. During my free time, I often ran the plastic through my fingers, admiring it, strangely enchanted by the meaningless piece of trash. 
 
 As I sat one day on a bench in the park during one of my walks, a homeless man approached me, his eyes ravaging the plastic bit in my hands. I figured he might be hungry, I offered him a few dollars for food or booze, whichever he appreciated more on a cold day. He, however, turned down my offer and brought his attention to the plastic. 
 
 “ You have it, ” he said, almost as if in a trance. “ You have the Lexicon. ” 
 
 “ Pardon? ” I asked without paying much attention. I figured he was another crazy homeless guy. 
 
 “ The Lexicon! ” he shouted as he grabbed at my hands, now tightly in a grip. “ I must have it! I must have it! ” 
 
 “ Hey, ” I yelled. I had no idea why I cared so much, but I suddenly became adamant about this piece of plastic. 
 
 “ Please, ” he begged on his knees. “ I need it. Take anything I have. ” 
 
 He began to empty his pockets of trash, spare change, and a beer. By the time he started to strip, I stopped him. On one hand, I thought if it made him so happy, I should give it to him, but on the other hand, it was mine. I wanted it. I needed it. 
 
 “ Get lost or I ’ ll call the police, ” I stood my ground. 
 
 Not pleased, he attacked me, throwing a punch in my gut. I retaliated with a right hook, but was distracted by the feeling of his nails attempting to gouge my eyes out of their sockets. Finally able to throw him off of me, I ran. I ran for as long as my legs could take me. Before long, the homeless disappeared from my vision. 
 
 Months afterwards, I began to understand the infatuation with the plastic. At night, it whispered in my dreams, introducing itself as the Lexicon. I felt my sanity slip as I obsessed over it. I began to speak to it, having intricate and deep conversations with it as I began to understand more of the world than any other being on earth. I slowly stopped bathing and going to work. It became my life until the day I lost the lease on my apartment and I was forced to wander the streets. 
 
 One night while sleeping in the gutter, I lost it. Lexicon disappeared. I looked for days but it never appeared. I felt my life go to shambles. I drank a lot. A year after losing it, though, I found it again, in the hands of a well-dressed man in the park. I begged him for it, offering everything I had including the shirt off my back, but he refused, so I attacked him. As he ran away, I realized the curse we shared.
