Member-only story
My Bedside Table Jimmy
A surface area that covers and succumbs to a lot more than its capability
I share a room with my brother, and we have two separate single beds except for one bedside table (named Jimmy). All of my weird belongings that don’t approve of my drawer security pass are thrown on Jimmy’s bloated head. I think Jimmy might have had more junk on him than the goodies in his three drawers combined for the last 4 years.
I appreciate the support Jimmy provides as after cleaning my room (which happens once every two years), the leftovers that can’t be categorized as clothes, my motorcycle keys, and my wallet become the new inhabitants of the land of Jimmy. I like to call such goodies “Jimmies” and they range from coins to a clay pot inside which I ate Gulab Jamin (a sweet delicacy from the Middle East) once about 7 years ago.
A deep dive inside the scalp of Jimmy opened my mind to various possibilities of life. There is so much going on that I actually found the cure to diabetes and even understood the ending of Inception, but it all vanished as I was distracted by the glare of a shiny object. It turned out to be my bright future, a luxury I was looking…
