Sunday, July 29, 2012


There is a lone button sitting on my kitchen table. I don't remember where it came from, or what it went to. I vaguely remember pulling the button off of something because its threads had gotten loose, so I know at some point it belonged somewhere, had some purpose in this universe, but right now it is sitting on my kitchen table, looking out of place and useless.

The end.

1 comment:

Heather Dixon said...

This existentialist piece is meaningful with depth. I feel the pain of the lone button, it's sole companion the kitchen table, and dread the foreshadowing of their parting.