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)