Week 14: Worn to Imperfection..

There's a desk at the end of the hall in a room that's been left open, but rarely has anyone ever entered for very long.  The blue paint that covers the floor paneling is chipped, covered with the dirt of passing feet and the window that sits in the center of the largest wall is clouded with the dietaries of passing seasons.  But it isn't the window, or the floors, or even the book shelf lined with novels and photo albums that catches the eye in this little room.  It is the desk pressed against the far wall in this room at the end of the hall.

The wood is certainly aged, though at first glance its hard to tell just how much.  Sun from the weather beaten window has cast a yellow luster to the varnish that has made a valiant attempt to keep it's armored sheen in tact and thus leave the wood beneath unharmed.  And yet there are nicks, scraps, and chips in the wood work.  The once smooth surface is marred by the wear of age, lines crisscross the desk top and there is more than one water mark from a glass or a beverage can that has left a ring to mark its passing.  There is some regularity to the damage in parts, perhaps a name or two have been etched into the surface?  A memento of those that have come and gone; and here!  Drops of green and orange paint smeared across the trim as idle fingers brushed away the offending pigments.  One might try to check the drawers, for certainly when an attempt is made to open them something rattles inside, but they are stuck.  The rollers having long fallen off the track and jammed. eliminating any hope of opening them short of the destruction of the desk itself.

Though despite these flaws, or perhaps because of them, the desk holds a certain charm.  Its solid, whole, and fairly level. The lined grains of the wood show brilliantly through the faded finish and speaks of a time where it was once a respectable, functional piece if not a beautiful one.