@daily.prompt/mariannewests-freewrite-writing-prompt-day-2116-medal
I don't have the slightest idea why I stare at that medal with such devotion. It is just that. A piece of tinplate that will eventually rust, and lie forgotten in one of the many boxes that will adorn my window.
Maybe, just maybe, the reason could be hidden in what it represents. What she once represented. Like me, so many others went out of their way for her. So many left their blood and sweat on the road to get to her. And in the end, it was I who was left with it. Once I had it in my hands I could see that, evidently, this object had no other value, other than what I and many others decided to give it. Now, it sits on the top of a shelf allowing me to see it and thus, rejoice in my ego. I know that someday it will pass into oblivion, that no one else will look at it with the enjoyment that I do, but in the meantime, I will continue to treasure it, while remembering all the tears I shed for it in a past that now seems distant.
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