Half-Eaten Name
by Mercy B.
· 14/01/2026
Published 14/01/2026 19:59
Found it again. That small, cold disk.
Buried under old batteries,
a paperclip chain, the usual junk.
My finger traces the edge,
tarnished silver.
The light from the window
catches a scratch, then another.
Almost rubbed clean, the name
it used to carry.
Just a few letters left,
like half-eaten words.
And the number,
a blurry promise
no one would ever dial now.
Still on the split ring,
still waiting for a collar
that isn't here.