Junk Drawer Mess

 

“Once I had a purpose.” He whispered to the Highlighter. “I was like you; I was important. I was needed. Now I sit here gathering dust like the broken clothespins she means to fix but never does.” 

He looked at his worn edges. He recalls how he once glistened in the sunlight. His glimmer was gone, replaced with scratches and dents. He was young and full of energy once. His aqua color matched her own personality: bright and charismatic. 

There was once a time that he felt special. They were all special. The blouse meant more to Her than most clothing articles mean to a person. He was Her gift, Her last memory from Her mother. A smile ignited Her face when she looked at the blouse. The bright teals and calming aquas reflected Her eyes and calmed Her when She needed it most. He knew what She needed; She needed him.

“You never know, Button, one day she may need you again.” Highlighter tried to console the lonely old button. “Maybe she will need to fix another shirt.” 

“Another shirt...” Mimicked Button. “It would never be the same.” Broken hearted, he thinks about the day that changed everything. 

“I mean nothing to Her. I haven’t since that day. We were getting ready for a second date. Between Her eccentric personality and electrifying outfit, She was set. Her date was downstairs waiting. The clock, ticking late as usual. She fretted with Her heartbeat a-flutter. 

“Her makeup looked stunning and she pulled the blouse a little too tightly. It unraveled me. I fell from the shirt without a glance back. The date went fine, the shirt looked improved and I was shoved in this drawer where I continue to sit, day after day, waiting to get thrown away. I think the day approaches. The Ruler overheard Her mention cleaning us out again...” He looked away, lost in thought. 

Highlighter stayed silent. What good was Button? He had been in the drawer longer than every other object in there. He was decrepit and his personality matched it lately. He was worn for wear and everyone was waiting for the seemingly inevitable.

As she opened the drawer. She grouped the items in three separate piles. They didn’t know which pile they were in until they were replaced in the drawer, used or thrown out. 

So they fretted. Their thoughts were panicked, words silent and scared. Which pile were they in? They looked around and tried to assess which would be which. Highlighter was content. He was with the Pens and Pencils. So he assumed he was either staying in the drawer or going to school. Button however wasn’t in any pile. He was alone. What did it mean, there was never a fourth pile. It had always been three. What was he doing all by himself?

She placed the Pens, Pencils, and Highlighter in a pencil box destined for a backpack. Highlighter would be happy. He liked the little one and the way she boasted about his color. The Rulers and Take-out Menus were replaced in the drawer. Button sat on the counter looking at his world. Much has changed in the house since that day. The kitchen was now an aqua that much resembled his own color. The living room incorporated yellows and oranges against the bright teal walls. 

She held him in the light and looked him over. She brought some polish to his sides, tickling him as the cloth caressed every inch of his body.

“Okay this is it.” He whispered to no one in particular. What would happen to him? She walked over to the kitchen table, placing him down. She reached down and grabbed the cloth at her feet. He saw the design, the intricate way the needle had grazed it. She had made it herself. Maybe he would once again have a purpose.

“Hello Friend,” whispered the Needle that found its way next to him. He was placed in the center of the purse, she had been making so delicately. She turned and put the purse into a bright yellow gift bag. 

“Hi!” One of the neighboring buttons said after the tissue paper was placed on top of them. 

“What are we doing here?” Button asked his new friends.

“We are a gift for her daughter. She has grown up and we mark the girl turning into a young woman. A special gift, because of you and how much this color means to Her. And how much this purse will mean to her daughter.” He looked over his surroundings. There were a bunch of beautiful mismatched buttons on the bag. He was the biggest, the center of attention. Something he never expected to be again.

Happiness is an adventure into the unknown.