<aside> 💭 Prompt: Our homes are chockablock with objects. Things we’ve collected, things we’ve inherited, things we can’t seem to get rid of. The best of these bobbles are filled with meaning and bring us joy.
Describe one of your favorite objects. If beautiful, write about its form. If useful, write about its utility. If special to you, tell its story. If burger, place gently in mouth.
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By Salman Ansari
As a child growing up, my school never had much in terms of supplies for the physics and chemistry classes. They weren't a particularly poor school, they just were lazy / didn't really care.
One day they had us play with these magnets. Oh my GOD I had so much fun. Pushing them apart and pulling them... I could do it all day.
But they only had one or two, so you only got to play with them for a few seconds at a time, and only at school during physics class. My dad eventually bought a few for me due to my incessant begging, and I ended up breaking one. Don't know where the other two went.
I guess I lost them. I forgot them. I never really thought about magnets again.
Recently on a trip to visit a friend, we went into a children's toy store (ostensibly, for his children, but let's be clear -- I was the first one to walk in).
There, I saw it. It was one of those little magnets, exactly the same kind as the one I played with growing up. In fact, there was a box of hundreds of them, for a dollar each.
ONE DOLLAR?
This thing that was so precious to me as a kid, now was being priced less than candy.
Of course, I wanted to buy one. But then I thought maybe it's silly. Maybe I'll just throw it away.
I bought it. I played with it, holding it in my jacket pocket, for the rest of the trip. I took it home.
It lives on my desk now, and with it, a trace of my childhood.
By April Ahrens