I've lost a faithful necktie: it was a flashy, abstract, blue/black/gray number that I had bought for cheap at Wal-mart many moons ago; it probably lasted about a year before it succumbed to time and use. I'm not sure whether anyone noticed that the blue tie I wore today was different from my usual tie; no one remarked on the change, at any rate, and it doesn't really matter whether the passing of a steadfast companion was seen.
The realization of my friend's death came suddenly earlier today, as I was whipping the tie around my neck: I noticed that the tie's bottom-- the fat end-- was wrinkled as if someone had pulled a string in the fabric and caused a bit of unraveling. That was, in fact, what had happened, but I'll be damned if I could say what, exactly, the tie had gotten snagged on. I tried to stretch and smooth the fabric out, but to no avail. The tie is effectively dead. Because I was in a rush to prep for work, I didn't have time to be sentimental, but now, in the quieter hours of early night, I have a moment to mourn. And to remember.
Rest in peace, faithful necktie.