Farewell to the iPod
It was while we were clearing the house. We’d gone past the numb stage and were now able to remember, sometimes with a smile. That jacket. We both had stories. The holiday when we were ten. Then we found it. Still beautiful even more so because of the small dent. I said the pockets on that jacket should have had zips! We looked at each other. They were his one thousand. He’d had them everywhere. We looked at the earphones, still plugged in. Should we listen? At least we had a choice. So glad he’d owned not rented his music.
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