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All alone again.: Pretty much pointless, but whatever.
Posted by Kenzie Fell Down, Feb 28, 2008. 2075 views. ID = 691

All alone again.

Posted by Kenzie Fell Down, Feb 28, 2008. 2075 views. ID = 691
This post was written in 26 minutes.
This post has been awarded 16 stars by 4 readers.

Flash. Whoosh. Qwish.
Every time a car rushes past, I feel my frayed clothing tremble, my whole self shaking slightly. I wave at them sometimes, but none of them seems to notice. I'm sad, to be out here all alone, especially when night comes. No longer the warm evenings with the TV turned on, no longer the fascination of watching Moe do his crossword, no longer the hilarity of Edward chasing his bone. Just speeding cars, and bugs, and sometimes birds. I like it when the birds come, they sit for a while, and I don't feel so alone. But they always leave, back to their nests, and I stay. I wish Moe would come and find me, I wish he actually cared, I wish... oh, but what's this? A figure, hobbling down the bar-ditch. He's the first human I've seen out here, without a car. I wonder if he would sit and talk to me a little? He's coming closer, yes, yes! But his head's down, he isn't looking at me at all. What if he keeps going, and leaves me all alone? He reaches toward something on the ground, a can I think, and drops it into his bag. And he's walking away, past me now, and I am sad again. No one likes me, they all leave me, and I... ouch. Someone in their car threw a bottle at me. And...could it be? The man s turning around, he's coming back! Ha ha, now he sees me. Cocking his head, he walks in circles around me, bottle forgotten.
'Well now, old thing. Who's gone and left such a beautiful antique armchair out here? A shame, a real pity. Hmm... Pete's been looking for something new for his living room. Maybe with some new fabric... Yeah.' Amazed, I look at this man, who is actually talking to me, who wants to take me home! At long last, I will once again sit inside on cold nights, and feel like I am important. The man has pulled out his cell phone now, he's talking to Pete, and in a few short hours they're back, with a truck, and they are taking me away! Oh, happy day. Never will I be alone again, never will I be forced to talk to birds, who are rather messy by all accounts, never will I... but wait. Where are we going? Not towards the house, bright and inviting, but towards the workshop out back. The cold, dark workshop, where they'll leave me alone, without even birds to talk to. Oh, nobody loves me, nobody cares, what if they have mice?!? Carefully, they deposit me inside, then flip off the lights and leave.
'Hello?' I call out timidly to the dark, knowing no one will answer.

'Hi.' A voice, from out of the gloom! Someone to talk to! Someone to... but what if it's a mouse?
'Are you a mouse?' I project my query to the encompassing shadows, dreading the answer.
'Of course not,' came the reply, 'I'm an antique Victorian armoire. Are you here to talk to me? I don't like to be alone.'


Copyright 2008 Kenzie Fell Down. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
 


   
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This post has been awarded 16 stars by 4 readers.
This post is part of a writing prompt: Inanimate Perspective




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