Finally, everything was done. Sorta of.
An era seemed to have gone away, something seemed to have shifted with his passing.
Then the sorting, weighing, disposing, realigning and reassigning.
His valuables had no value in this time; his sentiments would not be honored. After all he was not going to be there any more.
Soon nothing would remain. He would be forgotten, his impact would vanish, his presence forgotten and his memory lost
Even the clock, his treasured masterpiece, was junked and relegated to the closet, irrelevant in a digital world.
Would she be too, she wondered.