The object glinted under the harsh, unfiltered light of the sun as it slowly spun in place. It hung suspended in the heavens, it's surface pocketed with marks and impacts, half of it turned into an unrecognizable hunk of slag.
A soundless impact from another piece of debris knocked the object, briefly disturbing the orbit of the filing cabinet, before it simply continued on it's path. Cause and effect, action and reaction. The existence of the filing cabinet was simple in it's old age.
It had once lived an exciting life in the distant past. It had frequently been used and abused in all sorts of ways, fulfilling it's purpose as a storage unit as many others like it had. It had belonged to an artist, one who would fill it with all sorts of drawings, sketches and naturally, all of the dreams they could think of.
Then, one day, it's life was forever changed. In a great, earth shattering crack, the dreams of it's owner vanished in a torrent of unholy fire and to the soundtrack of a billion screams, ascending into the sky on the wings of the apocalypse.
And then after it was over, it began it's next great service. Not to store the life of a person, but to serve as the tombstone of a once vibrant existence. And it would fulfill that role for the rest of eternity if left alone.
But, just as it was disturbed once ages ago, so now it would be disturbed again. A meeting predicted by the sacred science of geometry generations ago took place. Another rock impacted the remains of the cabinet and shook it just so.
The charred remnants of a photo drifted out of the cabinet into the frozen void. It showed a blond woman who could have been 15 or 30 with a vibrant smile on her face, next to a figure who's visage was blackened by the fire that had claimed them both, one metaphorically, the other literally.
It continued to drift, propelled by fate until the end of time.