Erased

We knew the day would come, and it did. Then they were just, gone. Just, not there. Quickly followed by an urgent need to clear their things away. Drawers and drawers full of their daily ephemera. A straightened paper clip, some coins there, and who needs this many pencils?

They saved and socked away the endless random details of random days, and I’m looking at it all… And I have no attachment to it, and I feel bad.

I keep a small box of their things stashed in a corner though. Just in case. Something tactile.

So they’re not forever erased.