It was only a very minor thing. After all, we are not talking about million dollar pearl necklaces, only thirty dollar costume beads. Even if the beads couldn’t be re-strung, it was no biggie. In this consumer society, there would always be the next necklace.
Yet I was rather badly affected by this, for some reason. I couldn’t settle down to work for some time, thinking about it.
I hate it when my personal belongings call it a day due to unforeseen “accidents”. Due to space constraints, I take quite a bit of care to buy only stuff that I really like. I very quickly give or throw away stuff that no longer appeal to me, so each piece that stays with me is very close to my heart. When I retire my stuff due to “old age”, at least there is time for me to mourn a little, say goodbye and come to terms. I at least have the comfort that they have served out their lifetime and there is no waste. When sudden breakages like that happen, it feels like a sudden death in the prime of life. I hate the waste. I am inconsolable.
There is also the feeling that something irreplaceable has been lost. There will be many other necklaces, maybe even one of those million dollar pearl ones. But there will never be this one again.
And there is always something about threads breaking and sending beads clacking all over surfaces. I must have watched too many drama serials, but scenes like this (in slow-mo no lest) always signify something tragic – broken relationships, deaths etc etc. I continue to hear the “clack clack” of the beads over my keyboard, table, see them falling to the carpeted floor, and I feel very, very sad, and there is this heavy feeling in my heart as if something omnimous is about to happen.
Touch wood.
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