She Needs Me

She leaves it there. That wet ring of dew which settled on my surface throughout the day. Does she know what it does to my skin? If she leave it there any longer, my outer layer will begin to peel, exposing my particle board structure underneath. I know her. She’ll remove it tomorrow morning where she will replace the paper cup with a dark blue mug, filled with a bitter liquid.

A soft hum lingers throughout the night, stopping only when it has cooled. During the day it heat up enough to warm my wooden side. Sometimes it’s too much. My owner will sit for hours typing away, making her pink tower work over time. But the nights are peaceful still.

Movement on my surface has ceased. I feel useless right now. There are time I can not wait for morning. Then she will sit by my side, clean my surface, and begin to work.

Shhh! Here she comes. But it’s late. She should be sleeping. Must be one of her late night ideas. Her eyes will begin to close and she’ll soon stroll back to her room, but for now I must work. She needs me.

 

Writing Prompt: What your desk thinks about at night.

-Jay