Rest in peace, cheap digital alarm clock bought new (at a drugstore, probably) in 1993. You woke me up for part of elementary school, all of middle school, all of high school, and remained plugged in until earlier this week. You saw me through more than two decades. You saw me at my sleepiest, my grumpiest, and, on those occasions when I’d failed to heed your advice and overslept, my most panicked.
On your final day, you showed me strange, non-numerical figures I’d never seen before. It was a wonderful surprise, like learning that an old friend also speaks pigeon. But the figures didn’t go away when I hit buttons.
Gradually, it dawned on me that it was over.
I cracked you open, then, to see what was inside. All sorts of shiny electronic components lay just beneath your faux wood grain plastic exterior. I didn’t understand any of it, but I was impressed by how much there was to not understand.
After all these years, I hardly knew you at all.
You knew me, cheap digital alarm clock bought new (at a drugstore, probably) in 1993, but I hardly knew you at all.