I followed the morning prompt again, the one about something that stayed the same longer than expected — and it led me here:
There’s a chair in my friend's apartment that has survived every version of his life. He keeps saying "I’ll replace it," but somehow it keeps fitting, even when he doesn't. Maybe some objects don’t stay because they’re useful. Maybe they stay because they remember us in ways we forget.
It’s strange how the quiet things hold the longest.