Semper Fi HP

It’s a sad, sad day. Here at Ravens Retreat, we’re in mourning. Our beloved HP laptop has committed suicide.

It might’ve been a terrible tragic accident. The sole witness is unreliable. The HP is 6 years old, has never had a new hard drive, though it’s had 4 new adaptors, has been dropped, banged and abused more times than is healthy in a relationship – in fact, if it was a human, it would be in a refuge and we would be in jail. But we loved it. No-one understood our love for it. “It’s slow,” they’d say. “It’s broken. It’s held together by cardboard and duct tape.” But we saw past its faults and loved it anyway. A few months ago, the hinges broke on both sides. We lovingly patched it up with cardboard hinges and duct tape until we could find the tools to fix it. Today the adaptor broke again. We patiently wriggled the wires and brought it back to life. About 45 minutes ago, defeated by life, it threw itself backwards off the table, dragged down by the weight of its cardboard hinge, and now we’re left with a grey screen of sadness on its little electronic face. Our only comfort was it was quick. It didn’t deserve to suffer.

Every piece of work we’ve written over the past six years and everything we’ve had published was created on the HP. Sometimes we write on this one, the ASUS but then they’re edited on the HP. It had Windows XP, which we love. Word 2003 is simple. Our fingers instinctively know where every key is. It will be hard to move on. We need a grieving period. It seems so heartless to be looking for a new one when the loyal HP is sitting on a table by our sides, watching. We don’t move on easily.

Can we please have a minute’s silence?