inanimate object drabbles

[cornerofmadness]

This was an interesting challenge. For those not in Open on Sunday, the challenge was to write from the pov of an inanimate object

 

To Angel & Lilah – the Desk
 
I really must protest. This is not what I am made for. What makes you think I want your butts pressed up against me. I’m made for a higher purpose. I’m supposed to be refined and beautiful while serving to organize your office. If you want to do this, go to the bedroom or maybe find a couch. It’s used to having backsides on it. Speaking of backsides, Angel yours is starting to spread. Maybe you should spend less time sitting behind me. And you’re doing this on me with the enemy. That’s just adding insult to injury.

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The Hyperion
 
Empty is a terrible feeling. How could I have been so easily discarded again? Forgotten, left standing alone. I was home. I sheltered them. I listened to them whispering their fears to themselves late at night. I watched them love and argue and fight. I endured the wails of a baby and waited for him to tear me up as he grew older. I felt the shards of evil as the baby tore his way back to me, now a grown boy. I suffered injuries for being their caretaker. Now they’re gone and what will become of me?

 

 

The Proud Stake Launcher
 
His calloused hands adjust me yet again and off we go to practice some more. I’m special, more so than any other weapon our boy cares for. He made me for one purpose, his ordained calling. I was created so he could lay waste to the demon who sired him. He’s not quite pleased with my accuracy so he’ll shower more attention on me, fine tuning me until I am perfect. I will not fail him. I can not. He fills me again with the explosive powders and the sharp deadly wooden rods. We’ll be ready when the time comes.

 

 

The Belvedere Blues
 
I was meant to run.  As much as my owner loved me, he didn’t get much chance to take me out and open me up.  I’m tucked away in a garage, my adventures seemingly over since he has so many rides to chose from. I’m disappointed. We saw so much together.  Cruising with friends, running over enemies, even the near birth of his son. I wasn’t too thrilled to have a vampire’s water break all over me. After his son’s blood was on me, his body denting my hood, I was salvaged and retired. I long for the road.

 

 

The Claddagh
 
He so seldom takes me out and wears me. When he does, he still weeps, moaning her name softly. When she died, he wore me proudly as a badge of mourning. When she came back, I went back in my velvet box, not entirely forgotten. He showed me to his infant son, promising me to him when he became a man. He explained the meaning of the crown, the heart and the hands but never told the boy it was not for his mother I had been worn. When he moved, I went with, not worn but not forgotten.
 

 

Giles’ Guitar
 
He finally remembered he had me. I had sat in my case so long it took forever to tune me again. It had been years since I had been snugged up next to his body but his fingers played me like it had only been yesterday. We went out a few times and he let me sing in the no longer smoky clubs. I backed up his mellow voice and occasionally he’d let me solo. But all too soon I was back in my case, stuffed into the back of the closet, forgotten again. Waiting. Wondering. Music-less and melancholy.

 

 

Xander’s Watch
 
Really, it’s probably time he gets rid of me. I’m a silly watch meant for younger boys but he clings to me. I make him happy but I know he’s slowly realizing he’s outgrowing me. Will I end up in a drawer? A yard sale? Would I get so lucky as to be given to another young boy to make him smile? I know his girlfriend laughs at me and she wants me gone but still he wears me. At least he gets something out of me. It could be worse, I could be his text books and utterly unused and unwanted.

Miss Edith I am special, almost more so than her ‘Spike’ oh how I hate him. He even lifted my skirts and peeked when Mummy wasn’t looking. I’m her special girl. Mummy tells me everything and I tell her what the stars hold for her. We spend hours at tea time but I’m far more important than the other dolls she invites. I’m her baby, the one she spends hours doing my hair. I’m the one who rests on the bed, tucked close to her unbeating heart. I’m the one she loves, can not do without. I’m a goddess in porcelain.

Comments

[palmaceae.livejournal.com]

the first one? *snort snort choke*

[lejlkwiet.livejournal.com]

The Miss Edith one is perfect, but all the others are great too :D

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

Thanks. I'm glad you liked them. She was a late addition actually.

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

Thanks. Yeah that one just had to be written.

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

*cries* for the Belvedere. (You knew I would, didn't you.)

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

yes I did

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Did you see what I posted in my LJ today? Your Dad might be interested.

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

uh no I didn't. was that the classic car thing

[evil-little-dog.livejournal.com]

Yep, the classic car thing.