Possessions
He liked owning things because they stayed where he put them. At work, people changed moods, opinions, loyalties. Objects did not. His desk remained his desk. His mug waited. His screen opened when asked.
Over time, he began to trust the objects more than the people around him. He listened to reminders, notifications, and calendars. They never interrupted each other. They never forgot.
When he stopped coming in, no one cleared the desk. There was no urgency. Everything was still useful. The computer woke at the same hour. The chair held its shape. The drawer remembered the weight of his hand.
Weeks later, someone finally asked what should be done with his things.
The answer was simple: nothing. They were already doing what they had always done.
Over time, he began to trust the objects more than the people around him. He listened to reminders, notifications, and calendars. They never interrupted each other. They never forgot.
When he stopped coming in, no one cleared the desk. There was no urgency. Everything was still useful. The computer woke at the same hour. The chair held its shape. The drawer remembered the weight of his hand.
Weeks later, someone finally asked what should be done with his things.
The answer was simple: nothing. They were already doing what they had always done.
What you own may continue perfectly without you.