Requiem For A Hat

A short piece about a hat. Could be made better but for lack of time!


I first noticed you a few years ago. You were with someone else then, and that was fine with me. You didn’t attract me in the slightest. I found you plain, uninteresting; boring, even. Whenever I saw you, even when I was alone, I wasn’t jealous. I said to myself that I was happy alone, that I’d rather be alone than with someone like you.

It surprised me then, when, very recently, we got together. At first it was a purely functional relationship. I needed you, and you were there, happy to oblige. I didn’t really respect you, I was using you actually; but you didn’t seem to mind. I thought that was a bit pathetic, to be honest. I got used to you being with me every day. You warmed me and protected me. But still, when I looked at you, I thought of you as nothing more than something I could use.

Over time when I began to care for you. I would look for you when I couldn’t find you, and if I couldn’t find you straight away I began to panic. Other days, rushed winter mornings where I left without you, believe me, were the days I appreciated you all the more. I came to realise I needed you, and how selfish I had been. We were inseparable.

Now that you’re gone, I miss you.


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