Because of an office construction project, I had to clear off my desk -- which meant moving seven years of accumulation. Every morning, I'll share another uncovered item with you.
Okay, so it's fairly obvious what this is, right? A coconut.
But where did said coconut come from? I don't recall ever writing a story about coconuts whereby one might've needed to be acquired for research purposes. I can't imagine why anyone would've ever sent me a coconut in the mail. More to the point, I can't imagine why I would've ever decided to keep a coconut at my desk for--near as I can tell by a bit of lay archaeological dating--four years or so.
And yet, there it sat--undisturbed and unmolested, hidden behind a rank of Sam Adams test beers with blinded labels and a pile of receipts backdated by months and years, just waiting to be found by yours true.
A single coconut. Unexplained and unexplainable. There's probably a deeper meaning to it--something deeply psychological and disturbing. But then again, maybe there's not. Maybe sometimes, a coconut is just a coconut.
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Needless to say, I'll be keeping it and moving it right along to my new desk.