The Unclaimed Black Umbrella

Dear Delyara, A cheap, telescopic umbrella has been sitting in the corner of the staff breakroom since November. One of the metal ribs is snapped, poking through the thin synthetic fabric like a broken bone. Nobody claims it, and nobody throws it away; it has simply become part of the room’s permanent, stagnant geometry. It's strange how an object completely loses its connection to human utility and just becomes a landmark of collective human laziness. I stared at it today while my tea was steeping, wondering who forgot it, what frantic rush they were in, and if they ever missed it when the sky finally opened up later that night.