It had sat on her father's desk
For all her years of memory
She would climb into his chair
And feel it's cold smooth surface
When he wasn't there.
She would ask him what it was
When he was
He never gave her the same answer.
Worry beads he said to her once
When she caught him handling it absent mindedly
A paper weight he would answer when clearly distracted
But it had been a part for a nuclear device
One link in a chain crafted by Hercules
A turnbuckle for ropes
An object that dropped from a UFO.
It was there still unnamed on her father's desk
When she went through his things after the funneral
Now it sat on her desk
Next to her calendar
She would hold it at times
Until its cool surface warmed
Then set it back down it its place to watch over her.
tal·is·man (tls-mn, -z-)
n. pl. tal·is·mans
1. An object marked with magic signs and believed to confer on its bearer supernatural powers or protection.
2. Something that apparently has magic power.