The chair discarded.
Cast out with stacks of boxes, old bicycles and plastic lawn furniture.
I couldn’t ignore it.
I brought it home and the conversation began.
How long am I to languish here.
I want my life back again.
I want the morning paper and cafe au lait.
Afternoon tea and coffee cake.
I want a glass of Prosecco and conversation.
For three years the chair talked . . . and talked . . . and talked.
Stop. Just stop.
You’re condition is so dreadful I don’t know if I can give you back your life.
You must trust me. Perhaps a tuck there. A splash of paint. A few tacks.
And so the story ends.
The chair has its life back.
(This tale inspired by THE TIN MAN)