Back of closet
We have no idea what this mystery box is. It’s been floating in and out with the tides and north winds for weeks. We keep wondering if we’ll see it on the news: human head found floating…millions of dollars worth of cocaine found…Hey, around here, not impossible. Thought about getting a grappling hook to snag it, but, then, how to explain involvement to authorities? Some mysteries should stay mysteries.©
Don’t lie. You know they are there
The things that have dropped off the hanger. (Were they depressed and suicidal from being too long in the dark side? Or was it self-preservation to avoid the donation pile?)
The things that cling. Chocolate too good to share. Cherished clothing with too much emotion buttoned up.
Things that are hopeful. “It’s too good to discard. Besides someday maybe I can fit back into that (uttered each New Year’s Day…).”
The archaic and the forgotten: The inhabitants of the back of the closet.
Heartlessly, the door is closed on them. Lights out.
Soon another guest will check into that Hotel California.
I’ve hidden her successor. In the guest room. To be kind.
Lunar landscape is so fascinating…or maybe it’s Mars. Oh, it could too be. You can see little astronauts.Squint.©
No need to be cruel.
Computers have memories, too, you know. Long ones.
Even if they are wiped with a cloth.
This computer has charged and clicked steady like a Budweiser draft horse. Dependable. Always obliging. No drama. But now no longer able to keep pace or take the updates.
I haven’t told her.
She hasn’t noticed a thing.
A bit like one of the ancient aunts who slipped into dementia cheerfully and gently.
She always smiled. Batty as a loon, but never knew.
We wheeled all difficulties around her. Determined nothing would upset her.
So it’s like that. A new computer ready to take the stage.
Settings to be made. Files and documents to transfer.
Slowly.
All without stripping this lovely old gal of dignity.
While she won’t be the opening act, I’m determined she won’t suffer the long walk to the back of the closet.
She can still be open about things and play – without the pressure of keeping up.
Just been in the thick of things for too long to abandon.
Besides, she has a photo memory and knows where all the satire is kept…
With thought police and social bullies warriors these days…
And she can Google their contact info…
Slipping into the new
Phil, the Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge.
See. She’s held onto this just in case it fits somewhere. An odd image of bricks lining a sidewalk. Who knows why it’s so fuzzy. Could be dog hair. She always been good about just happily accepting the mystery.©
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Philosopher Mouse of the Hedge 
the black box reminds me a little of s stephen king story… I hope it is no present from pennywise the clown :o)
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It is spookily like a King novel. Thanks for pawsing with a shivering comment
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Back-up computers are good for simple games like Solitaire or when the new one goes down but they soon lose their abilities. Computer dementia happens when they are way past the “no longer supported” category. Can I be adopted into your family just in case I develop dementia? Having someone maneuver the problems while I am happy in lala land sounds so kind. It doesn’t always work like that.
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The box reminds me of the cooler with the head inside in The Shipping News. Don’t open it.
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Switching over to a new computer, especially one with a new operating system, can be daunting, or at the very least, time consuming. Here’s hoping all goes well with it for you!
Hope your New Year is starting off well!
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The things in the back of the closet having feelings and being sad is a BRILLIANT metaphor! Loved it! Wishing you so much luck xo
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fabulous analogy! good fun, digging around at the bottom of a closet and christening a new computer!
best to you as you unravel tangles in both arenas, and may your words, like clothing, live a long and colorful life!
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You make the ordinary extraordinary, old friend.
I am, as ever, in awe.
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How did you do that? See into our closets. The t-rusty old laptop in its hefty carrybag with multiple & expandable pockets, lives there. Now a relic, with a CD/DVD drive/burner it houas the archives of a personal music collection compiled over decades. Mostly abandoned in these days of Pandora [hmmm… speaking of boxes, don’t open it] and TunedIn, but more up-to-date than the box of cassette tapes demoted to a shelf in the shed.
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I loved this post! You have such a gentle humour when it comes to worthy subjects—old faithful computers for example, like maiden aunts gone soft in the head. Love that image 🙂
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We have some wetlands near us that pond up like crazy when we have heavy rain. In the winter they can ice over and kids sometimes will skate or otherwise play on the temporary ponds. A couple weeks ago I drove by and saw a half of a kids bike sticking straight out of the ice/water. I knew it wasn’t a life threatening thing (because the earth isn’t that far removed from the ice surface) and obviously the ice broke, broke the bike and the child decided to walk away from it…but it was there for two weeks afterwards. Each day I drive by…there’s this half-bike in the air. It’s gone now…as is the ice. Water and mud remain for the next victim. That box (of which the picture made me think of the bike)…hard to say just what’s going on there…but…nothing to see here…move along.
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Inspired, Phil. A joy as always!
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The aphorisms make it sound so easy–“out with the old, in with the new.” Those of us who have been around a while know that things don’t always go quite that smoothly. But compassion and kindness can smooth the way!
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Whats in the boooox?!?!?
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I don’t knoooow – and it’s still there. Getting really to be Poe-like…Tell “Tale Heart” and all….
Thanks for paddling in with a comment (Sorry to be so slow in response)
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