An object that was burned 

 It was Valentine's Day and neither Kim, Shana nor I had a date, so we went 
back to my place after our last class and opened a bottle of wine. We were 
all feeling pretty bitter and angry at the world and the lack of good men 
in it. Shana was feeling twice-rejected because her boyfriend had recently 
broken up with her, and then that very day she had received a rejection 
letter from the Student Fashion Show committee. They had put out an open 
call to students to volunteer as models for the show, and she had 
auditioned, but not made the final cut. Kim and I were baffled because we 
both thought Shana was beautiful and had a very commanding presence. After 
a couple glasses of wine she pulled out the letter and her lighter and set 
fire to it, watching it burn in her hands. I ran to the sink and filled a 
big glass with water. When the letter was burning close to her fingers she 
stuck it in the water and it dissolved into a puddle of ash. For some 
reason it was cathartic enough to make us all feel a little better and then we decided to go out for pizza. 

*** 

The oldest object in my home 

 On my kitchen table I have a frosted yellow glass bowl and two matching 
candlesticks. I'm not sure how old they are, but I know they used to belong 
to my great-grandmother, who died long before I was born. Mom found them in 
the basement when she was helping Grandma pack up to move. It was a 
difficult time; they were selling the house and moving into an apartment, 
so they had to get rid of a lot of things. Grandpa had lung cancer and was either in 
serious pain or so heavily medicated that he was delirious. One situation 
was not much better than the other. Since Grandpa was virtually 
incapacitated and Grandma cannot see very well anymore (and could never 
drive anyway), they decided to move to an apartment and sell the house to 
my cousin Rob and his wife. In the process of cleaning and deciding what to keep and what to get rid of, my mom found this yellow bowl and candlesticks and remembered them from her Grandmother's house. They always sat on top of the sideboard in 
her dining room. She thought they looked like something I would like so she 
set them aside for me. Now they are on my kitchen table, and remind me of a 
woman I never met, but who had very good taste. 

*** 

An object I plan to get rid of 

 I've got this pair of shoes that I bought and have worn exactly once. What 
a mistake! Luckily they weren't too expensive, so it wasn't a huge waste of 
money, but still. For weeks I'd been lusting after this particular pair of 
black suede platform-soled sneakers, and they were finally on sale, so my 
resistance was weakened further. They were a touch small when I tried them 
on in the store, a size 7 instead of my usual 7 1/2. But the next largest size 
was a 9. Yeah, the 7 is a little tight, but they'll stretch. They won't bug 
me too much. I am weak in the face of discounted shoes. So I bought them 
and wore them to work and it was so annoying! My toes felt like they were 
being crumpled up, or that they were going to burst out of the front of my 
shoes at any moment. God forbid I should wear them on an occasion where more than 
minimal walking is required. Forget it! Maybe I can sell them at the resale 
shop. I only wore them that once so they're near perfect. It seems like it 
would be too wasteful to just toss them out. 

*** 
 

Kathy