Dear Rhett Butler Salt Shaker,
I first saw you on the shelf of a thrift store with you counterpart, the Scarlett O’Hara Pepper Shaker. I was initially apprehensive about buying you, but when I saw your 65-cent price tag, I felt it was too good of a deal to pass up. You have been a part of my life ever since.
The night was coming to an end. I was about to turn in when I decided to grind some coffee. If only I hadn’t been set on having a delicious, homemade, coconut-mocha frappuccino in the morning, you might still be with us. However, I did grind the coffee and as I pulled the coffee grinder off of the counter to put it away, you became caught in its cord and fell to the floor, landing in a heap of shattered plastic and non-iodized table salt.
I feel a great sense of remorse in losing you. If only I hadn’t been so haphazard with the coffee grinder. If only I had put you away when I was finished using you earlier in the day. If only…if only… My regrets run deep.
I’m not entirely sure how Scarlett O’Hara Pepper Shaker will react when I tell her the news of your demise. You have been her constant companion for many years. I imagine that she’ll say something along the lines, “Where will I go? What will I do?” which are questions to which I don’t have answers. I also wonder what I will do with one less salt shaker in my life. However, I have a feeling that, as you sit shattered in a garbage bag on the curb outside, your response will be a bit different than hers or even mine. Your bitterness at being so poorly loved and so poorly taken care of is probably taking over.
In fact, my dear, I feel as if you frankly don’t give a…well, you know.