Fading

“Come out to play”
My request hangs with delicacy
And he smiles for a brief second
But then the weariness comes through, and I leave him to rest.
Hours later, I’ll ask again
But a yes may only last an hour
And a return to rest is only ever just behind the faintest of clouds.

Some days we spend a lot of time together
Most evenings I try.
But with every fleeting day, each moment seems shorter than the last.
So often, it seems that I find him in unfulfilling slumber.
Draped in the defeating curtain of fatigue.
Unable to lift his head from drowning in that sticky grunge of exhaustion.

I remember when I first met him, back in his youth
Back when he was the one everyone wanted to be around.
But he aged so fast
So unfairly
And without even seeing those that were once his friends mourn his inevitable expiry.
For they had all found newer companions, with more energy than what little spark is left in his old bones.
Companions who can run faster.
Play harder.
And who have a sense of style a fair bit more modern than a red jacket
with a rubbery sheen.
A red jacket, slowly crumbling into the past.
An embodiment of a friendship we let go stale.

And yet, I still come back for him, to spend time like we used to.
To hear him speak in that tinny accent that we only now see as old fashioned.
But the end, I fear, is just within sight.
Perhaps if I squint, I will see a day that is yet to realise its gloom.
I will ask him to come out on that day.
And he will.
But seconds after leaving his place of rest, he will collapse.
And then I will lay him back down
Like I have many times before
But in that moment I will know that I will never see his square face shine up at me again.
For lithium-ion powered circuits only last so long.
And a fourth generation iPod may as well be a relic of bygone times.