Wednesday, December 26, 2018

Day 72: The Library Card





Look around you and choose an object in the room.  Now write something from the point of view of that object.




My purpose died two and a half years ago.  I felt so lost without him this entire time.  I have adjusted. Now I am retired and have a new job.

We grew old together.  I became worn. The barcode barely worked and the signature rubbed off.  Black smudges have made the yellow fade where I was worn while resting in his wallet.  At some point, a section of myself snapped off. I used to entertain him during the winter.  Weekly we traveled to pick up the rectangular objects he loved so much, books.

After he died, I sat on a counter for a while until she spotted me.  With love she picked me up and rubbed her fingers on my smooth surface.  I saw her smile, a sad smile. She missed him too.  I knew she wanted to keep me. I hoped to go with her and see her smile without the sadness.

Now I sit on the stand of her computer monitor.  She looks down at me lovingly as she writes for her blog or her latest fictional creation.  We both miss him, but our memories are those of love and fondness. I give her comfort and, I hope, a little push to keep creating.  I will never help him get a book again, but I hope to help her get one in a different way.





No comments:

Post a Comment

Work

           First, I wanted to chat a little bit about my last post with Saint Joan of Arc’s quote before going on to the next quote.  I have...