The lamp

The lamp on my desk is a cheap thing, bought in a hurry from a shop that no longer exists. It has a crooked shade and a switch that requires a particular kind of patience.

I have tried to replace it twice. Both replacements were better in every measurable way: brighter, steadier, more efficient. Neither of them made the desk feel like a place to work. I gave them away.

There is a category of object that earns its place not by performing well but by having been present for a long time. The lamp is in that category. It is not a good lamp. It is my lamp.