The Unclaimed Umbrella

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