Desk Archaeology

Dull pencil point.
A tea stain the colour of weak rooibos, the mug ring cool to the touch.
A crack webbing the corner of the phone glass.
A thumb drive with nowhere to go.
Two invoices clipped under a bulldog clip.
The faint blue ghost where a post-it lived.
A crumb that outlived lunch.
A charging cable with one frayed rib.
A sticker half-peeled, still insisting.
A sigh from the laptop fan.
A receipt curling into itself.
A business card that got the title wrong.

Like a shallow dig—layers close, still warm.
Like a folded map that will not fold again.
Like a kettle about to speak.
Like rain the clouds hold back a breath too long.
Like work remembering the shape of a life.