Short Story

I was born when a human pulled me out of my packaging. I heard rustling, crumpling and eager voices shrieking: “Don’t forget to read the instructions!” Initially my ears were alive with sounds but I saw nothing. Then suddenly my lens cap was removed and I could see. Movement and shapes preceded vivid colours. As I looked round, I stopped and focused on an adorable little human in a larger being’s arms. I blinked in a suffusion of light and the moment was captured forever.

Sometimes I was asked to record moving picture and sound. I saw the little human’s first tooth, and witnessed his first step and recorded his first word. I started to feel – yes, actually feel - warmth every time I winked at him. I loved him so much, even when he smothered me in chocolate spread! He became a child then an adolescent and an adult. His whole life was recorded in my memory. His name was George.

I travelled the world with George and his family capturing their laughs and experiences. I was treasured.

When I saw George leave for university I experienced my first negative emotion. I was angry and upset that education was so important to humans that they sent their children away from home. I sulked in my box for 5 long years.

The next time I blinked, I saw a handsome young George with a beautiful woman wearing a long white dress. I recorded many happy memories of them and one day a tiny human appeared in their arms. With immense pride I recorded these words.

“This is our new born son, Charlie. He weighs seven pounds.”

I fell asleep for a few years but my dreams were vivid. I relived all my memories, feeling, seeing, and hearing everything as if for the first time. When I woke up I was overwhelmed with excitement. I knew it was George’s fortieth birthday and I couldn’t wait to see him.

I was pulled out of my case but before long I felt wet drops land on me even though there was no rain. Where was George? I knew his warm gentle hands, but they weren’t holding me. I opened my eye as wide as I could - still no George. Then I saw it - a Union Jack on a long wooden box being placed into a hole in the ground. A cold grey stone protruded from the earth. My George was dead. I felt as if all the mechanisms inside me were ripped out. I felt as if my lens was shattered. I wanted to be dead but I wasn’t. I could still feel, and it hurt. I closed my eyes and saw nothing again for many decades.

Suddenly I woke up to see faces leering and fingers pointing at me through a glass screen. I had outlived four generations and I found myself in a museum. The title of the display was ‘Objects that were once useful’.