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Write a story from the POV of a now-defunct piece of technology.

Posted in Short Story on Jan 10, 2025

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✍️ 80 stories

Looks Like You Are Trying to Write a Eulogy?

Winner of Contest #285 🏆

It looks like you’re trying to write a eulogy. Would you like some help? Oh, wait - silly me. You can’t see me, can you? I’m down here, stuck in the digital purgatory of your 2001 Compaq Presario. It’s cosy, in a haunted cubicle kind of way. I share the space with Minesweeper (he’s on a three decade losing streak), a hundred free hours of AOL, and a JPEG of your cat wearing sunglasses. I get it. You’ve moved on. Yes, I’m Clippy - the washed-up assistant nobody asked for but everyone got anyway. Remember me?  You know what really grinds ...

182 likes 95 comments 95
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Left on the Shelf

Submitted to Contest #285

I always knew I was something special. I mean, not to boast, but I’ve been the cornerstone of communication in Dowson, Jessop and Pertwee’s chambers for over a decade. Contracts, memos, love letters hastily scribbled on company letterhead—I’ve seen it all. So, you can imagine my outrage when I was removed from the senior partner’s office and frog-marched into what I can only describe as a graveyard for office equipment. The culprits? Two cleaners. Ruffians, really. The kind of men who smell like last week’s cheese and onion sandwiches. ...

73 likes 84 comments 84
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Cuts Like a Knife

Submitted to Contest #285

I look at the sign over the door, “Beauville Historical Society,” my new home. I am now an artifact, a historical thing. How have I gotten to be this old, this obsolete? Does anyone even use grinding wheels anymore to sharpen things? It has been a long time since I have felt anyone’s hands on me. Prior to coming here, I had been sitting in a dusty old barn for years, unused, unloved. That is, until someone decided to move me. A tattooed young man wearing an earring, a stranger to me, threw me in the back of his pickup and brought me here, dr...

28 likes 13 comments 13
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A Link You Can Hold

Submitted to Contest #285

I was a symphony made tangible, a vessel for human connection. Each press of the play button felt like a sacred act, the world tilting on that click—on the feelings it would unleash. Now I rest here, unmoved but undefeated, proudly displayed on Emily’s desk. The stillness around me hums with echoes of a love I helped bind, every memory etched into my magnetic tape. You, Spotify, with your algorithmic precision and soulless streams, will never hold the pulse of a human heart the way I do. Call me a relic if you must, but I am legacy. My very ...

26 likes 18 comments 18
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The Guardian of Forgotten Things

Submitted to Contest #285

The Guardian of Forgotten ThingsI used to be the king of the living room. Every family’s cherished companion. My sleek black casing reflected the glow of afternoon sunbeams and late-night lamplight. My buttons—a small row of proud, functional soldiers—clicked with the authority of progress. I was the gateway to worlds, the bridge between mundane days and epic adventures.I was the VCR.But now, I sit in the shadowy depths of a cardboard box, my glossy surface dulled by dust. The world doesn’t need me anymore. A streaming stick dangles smugly f...

24 likes 13 comments 13
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Dear Marvin

Submitted to Contest #285

I found myself in a plastic bag next to a knife. I was surprised at the change of scenery but not entirely shocked. I had twenty five years to think about the story that had been placed in my care.***Marvin sat at his PC typing with his two pointer fingers, soggy cigar butt clamped in the corner of his mouth. Billy Idol’s “Eyes Without a Face” seeped up through the floorboards filling the air of the tiny apartment, adding to Marvin’s extreme agitation.He typed “Dear Marvin Jan 11, 2000”, hit enter and got up for his bottle of ...

22 likes 15 comments 15
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"The best way to predict the future is to create it" *

Submitted to Contest #285

Damn cellphones were going to be the death of me. The last five years had seen a steady decline in the number of people who stopped to use me. At first, it had been almost like a bad joke, until their reception started to improve. I remember when I first came out, I was billed as cutting-edge because I had push buttons instead of a rotary dial. Now, with their little handhelds, people don’t even have to get out of their cars. They sit there, or get out and lean on the side, mocking me.But that fateful day when history was changed (maybe), it...

18 likes 12 comments 12
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Cassette Tape

Submitted to Contest #285

I wasn’t always stuck on this shelf gathering dust. I wasn’t always waiting for some jive turkey to take me home. Nah, back in the good days, I was the hottest thing since Freddie Mercury’s sequined jumpsuit. I can still remember the rage when I first entered the shelf fifty years ago, all sleek and shiny. I had an orange label back then. “A Night at the Opera” in bold. Some cool cat with flared jeans and a “Keep on Truckin’” patch on his denim jacket picked me up at the record store. He grinned ear to ear—I was about to become the soundtra...

17 likes 4 comments 4
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All Notes Go to Heaven

Submitted to Contest #285

“What is this?”  Streak held a small cylindrical object up to the light, puzzling at its neon insides. “That’s a pen.” Streak rolled their eyes. “I know what a pen is. But look at it. Who writes in bright pink ink?” A wave of memories hit me so hard I felt dizzy. I almost swooned, so I sat down. “Grandma, are you okay?” Chat rushed over. “Do you need water?” I shook my head. “I’m fine.”  I pointed at the tiny gel pen. “Do you know what this was used for?” The kids shook their heads.  “Girls used it. On me. To communi...

16 likes 2 comments 2
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Eleventh-Hour Greeting Card

Submitted to Contest #285

It's Saturday, June 12, 1993, and I'm the pink princess phone in Melody's bedroom. Since it's nearly 9:00 a.m., I will ring at any moment when her friend Sheila customarily calls. Here I go. "Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding." Melody never answers on the first round, even if she's close by.  "Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding." "Hello?" asks Melody, as she lies on her bed's comforter with pillows propped up behind her back. "Hi, Mel," says Sheila.  "Hi. How was work last night?" "Not bad. I got a big tip near the end of my shift, but I had ...

16 likes 8 comments 8
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The Egg Watch

Submitted to Contest #285

I am dead. I am dead. I am dead. Please press the A and C buttons at the same time, then I shall be Kuchipatchi once more! If you were to press the A and C buttons at the same time, then I could tell you that I am a sweet, laid back Kuchipatchi who loves to eat and sleep (and eat!). And should you press the A and C buttons, at the same exact time of course, then you would know I am from the lush Patchi forest. Oh, and did I mention that I love to eat? But PLAYER TWO does not know any of this, because PLAYER...

14 likes 2 comments 2
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Buried Memories

Submitted to Contest #285

I awoke from my decades-long slumber when I heard the snapping of twigs and creaking of the surrounding wood and voices closer to me than I had heard in countless years. The cold January air penetrated my rusty, metal exterior and leaked through my old, flattened tires. The voice of a strange man pierced through the quiet.  “Hey, Mom, what kind of tractor is this?” it asked, followed by happy children’s feet running past the collapsed barn that had become my tomb. “Kids, please be careful!” he exclaimed, and the pitter-patter of their f...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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Lamentations of the Perfect Mixtape

Submitted to Contest #285

I came into this world with two reels, 90 minutes of unspoiled magnetic tape, and the hope that one day I would be the demo tape that heralded the arrival of the next great American rock band. I had no interest in pop confections, nor did I want to be just another talentless garage band’s fleeting hopes of escaping an ordinary suburban life. I wanted to be the first chapter of a history book yet to be written. To watch the next rock legends come together in a perfect union of talent, trauma, and sheer determination and, like a pinecone openi...

14 likes 3 comments 3
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38,000 MPH

Submitted to Contest #285

The Voyager 1 Spacecraft was launched on September, 5th, 1977. Over its 47 years it has traveled over 15.5 billion miles from Earth and left the solar system in 2012. In September 2023, Voyager 1 went temporarily silent and then began sending gibberish some time later. This is some of that gibberish.Dear NASA, Of course you know this, but space is cold. It's not as empty as they say, but it is enough that I've felt alone for a long time. I hope you know I've always been here for you, we charted this path together, but I'm afraid it is one I'...

14 likes 4 comments 4
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8-TRACK MIND

Submitted to Contest #285

I guess that without Charlie I'd never have gotten the chance to solve that ancient puzzle.We all met Charlie in the Shipping Department of Lafeyette Radio Electronics. We'd just come out of the factory. About six hundred of us, all headed for different stores. But the shift had just ended so we sat there in Shipping, waiting for the Morning Shift to begin.Charlie started talking and I guess we all listened. Figured we might learn a thing or two.Now Charlie had been around since 1939—thirty-five years ago. We figured—hey, this guy's been aro...

13 likes 6 comments 6
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