[ WP ] Describe an object within five feet of you in as much detail as possible .

She ’ s warm on my lap, burning hot occasionally and I need to stick her on the vent to cool off. She belongs to no one but me, mine and mine alone. Brushed silver sits against black, keys with each letter of the alphabet written in white sit under my fingers, well worn. The ‘ F ’ and ‘ J ’ keys have little bumps in the shape of dashes to let me know that my fingers are on the correct keys as I work. The keyboard ’ s large, adding onto the original form with a keypad including a second set of numbers. 
 
 She ’ s larger than most of her kind, a dimmed screen of eighteen inches lit with words and images and upon occasion, my own words and thoughts. Three little lights glimmer, two beside each other letting me know that the mute is on and I have wi-fi, the third showing her powered on status, just like the bright light on the back of her screen. A small sticker of a butterfly with trailing white gems sits beside her, a remnant of another time and place that she ’ s never even seen. 
 
 The silver has designs built into it, lines and waves and curves that hold no meaning but sometimes I run my fingers over them like they do. A small scanner sits to read my finger if I need to log in again, a set of stickers still clinging to that side of the keyboard to let me know some of her internal characteristics. 
 
 Her hinge is broken a little. When she tilts back, sometimes she can ’ t stop herself from tilting all the way back. When she ’ s closed, the top corner clicks the two halves of her bottom back together with the force of a hand. I wasn ’ t careful with her and she was pulled out of joint. I ’ m still sorry for it. The left click sounds like something being wrenched free and put back into place sometimes, all thanks to someone else. 
 
 Even with all that, the heat on my legs that almost gets unbearable and damages my skin, the worn down hinges and attachments, the sticky clicking, she ’ s all mine. It ’ s marked her as mine. And mine she ’ ll stay until she grows old and dies.
