Project 1: Revisiting Obsolescence

Obsolescence: A Different Point of View

By Mia Salvati

In the beginning, it was all the time. All I knew was your touch. It seemed like no one could pull us away from one another. Your eyes were always on me. And I lit up like the sun for you.

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You would look at me so happily. I knew it wasn’t my words that were making you happy. For I never talked to you, it was your friends talking to you. But if you smiled, I was ecstatic, just to be able to see you like that.

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But while I grew old, you stayed youthful. Bright, happy, and beautiful. And I was happy to be yours. Until one day, as you pushed my buttons, a look crossed your face that I had never seen before aimed me. Frustration, punctuated with your pursed lips. Exactly the opposite of your usual bright smile.

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Your friends showed off their new models. Streaming video, with lavish cases that they didn’t make for me. And your grip on me became softer and softer. I knew my time was drawing near.

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The last time I saw you, you had a slim, new phone in your hands. You handed me to your little sister. She was so excited to have me, saying something about being cool now. But I could only remember your last words to me.

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And one day, someone found me. On a bench, the last place your sister had forgotten me near the schoolyard.  As they powered up my screen to try and find out who I belonged to, only three words flashed. The words I had meant for you, and only you. Since I was not yours anymore.

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