A Future We'd Like To See 1.20 - Junk Drawer
By Twoflower (Copyright 1993)
 
     I was busy tidying up the house yesterday.  It hadn't been
dusted in a few weeks, actually.  Karen dusted it last.
 
     I have a small end table near the couch which serves as a
place to put things that have no place to be put.  My small,
cheap holophone goes there.  There's a little ceramic potlike
thing that I put nail clippings and lint in.  On the odd thursday
you could find some travel brochures there.  I haven't gone on a
vacation in awhile.  Just doesn't seem worth it.
 
     Also inside this end table you'll find a pair of drawers. 
These are the junk drawers, where I can put things that have no
place to be put which I don't want to look at for prolonged
periods of time.  That hadn't been dusted either, judging by the
small dust-cloud which billowed as I pulled the top drawer open.
 
     Here's the little pocket racing game I loved as a kid.  I
used to play it out in back of the school, just to tick off the
teachers.  They didn't like games.  They thought they were a
waste of time.  I've wasted a lot of time in my life, some of it
playing games.  There's no point in mourning lost time, Karen
told me.  I've tried not to, but it can be hard sometimes.  The
game is broken anyway, from the time Bobby pushed me off the
swing and I landed on my backpack.  I beat the crap out of Bobby
for that one.  I don't know why I keep the game around.
 
     And here are cookies, vacuum-sealed in a miraculous new
plastic.  These cookies could sit around for hundreds of years
and still be tasty as the day they were baked.  Karen's dad used
to manufacture the plastic; he gave me these as a sample.  I
don't have the guts to open it up and see if he was right.  His
company did go under, if that's any indication.
 
     This watch was a wedding gift.  It could tell time on all of
the homeworlds, and had a holographic readout.  A bit flashy,
which is why I never wore it.  Besides, Karen had a watch, so I
didn't have to wear one.
 
     A CD from my grandparent's days, by some now unknown group
called Nirvana.  I never managed to find a CD player, since no
CD2 players can handle the old format.  They were supposed to be
good, or at least interesting.
 
     A broken toy cyberspace deck.  Karen used to enjoy using
this cheap model to play multiplayer games and such.  I had my
arcade and pocket games, she had her cybergames.  This is a
recent addition to the junk drawer, but not that recent; the
smell of burnt flesh is almost faded away.
 
     A really, really, really gaudy sweater.  Part of it, at
least.  It got a bit ripped up in the struggle last week. 
Fortunately it's red, so that doesn't matter.
 
     An old kung fu action figure with the left arm missing.  He
doesn't seem to mind.
 
     Two bits.  1975 date.  I use it to make decisions.  Can't
exactly flip a credit chip.
 
     A small broken speaker.  I had used this to blast tunes out
of my computer until Karen turned it up too high and it exploded. 
We had a good laugh, and I promised to fix it before the music
files from Assembly '45 came out, so she'd be able to play them
in stereo.
 
     Here's that faulty credit chip we got for the run made on DI
SoftCorp.  The guy, a Donny somebodyorother, (who wanted the
illegal alpha of their latest game) mailed us this chip in
payment, claiming there was a million on there.  There was, but
the interface slot was screwed to hell.  We were set up to crash
into really hard black ice so he could send in a more experienced
team while we played diversion.  Karen and I didn't know that. 
The money doesn't matter; the payment wouldn't have been enough,
considering the losses.
 
     Some old drug kit.  Some guy named Bernard gave it to us as
a free sample, but we didn't like the aftereffects.  Besides,
that was when we were young and foolish, not old and foolish.
 
     Karen's wedding ring.  She didn't need it anymore.  And
here's a disk copy of the eulogy.  I really should have
spellchecked this thing.  I'm not a terribly good writer, after
all.
 
     There's the bullet I considered using.  Junk, junk, junk, I
didn't need that.  I had already dealt with the pain in the most
efficient way possible.  Karen would have been proud, in a way. 
I'm feeling much better now.
 
     I closed the top drawer after removing most of the dust and
opened up the bottom drawer, dusting Donny somebodyorother's
lungs.  Not much dust there, fortunately, as I've got other
things I'd like to do; can't spend all the live long day
cleaning.  Maybe I should hire a maid.  The fishbowl needs a
water change soon, so I should hire one soon if I'm going to hire
one.
 
     I closed the bottom drawer after I was sure it was dustless,
fed the fish, then settled down for a bit of tea while I watched
the afternoon cartoons on HV.  Maybe I'll change the fishbowl
water later.