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   The bifocal glasses he withdrew from the velveteen box amid other treasures were just plain unremarkable things. They were nothing special actually. The lenses had a subtle yellow tinge more from age than tint. Their subscription had expired long ago. Their fashion was out-of-style - an early 2000s model.
    Maybe they should have been thrown out a long time ago with all the other things that held no use; pots and pans, clothes, newspapers. Maybe he should have thrown out all the other personal odds and ends neatly ordered in the opened box before him. The box itself had been carefully stashed away in the weathered footlocker he had acquired five years back. The glasses were nothing special to anyone else, but him… He couldn't find the courage to... He gave an audible sigh trying not to allow the old pair of eye wear evoke deeper emotions. They were gently returned to the velveteen box as the weathered footlocker was slid to the back of his closet again. Before the door was closed on their memories he gave a melancholy whisper, "I miss you Dad."

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