It was his first. He recalled the all-nighters, pouring his thoughts into its circuitry, pizza crumbs in the crevices, indiscernible streaks across the screen, and then a long life as a glorified coffee table. Now she said he had to get rid of it, it sounded like an ultimatum, but he knew better than to fight for it. He couldn’t stand someone else having it, so he picked it up and took it to his mother’s basement.
