PROMPT:: Making experience-based short stories
Hi Axel,
It’s been a while since we’ve met. I remember exactly 16 years ago when you
stepped into me. You were so small and whiney. I witnessed your first day of
school, fourteen birthdays, your first driving lesson (it left a scar on my
wall, you asshole). You’re always there. In the front-right corner of me. God
knows what you’re doing there. Lollygagging? Studying? Listening to G-Friend songs
on repeat?
It’s been two years since we’ve met. I miss seeing you trying to park that
stupid little blue car in me. I miss you complaining about me being old and
haunted or my cracked tiles or even my leaked pipes. But you really had to go,
didn’t you? I wish I could blame your parents divorce so you had to leave me. I
wish I could blame your ungratefull ass and your high standard of a house. But
we have one thing in common. We always blame ourselves for whatever reason. It
has to be because of my dilapitated paint. It has to be because I’m old. I’m no
longer wanted. I have no remaining capability to shelter you.
That “for rent” sign has been hanging for a while now. I guess sooner or
later I would get some people to live in me. That, or house destruction. But I'm begging you, I just want to see you one more time. Rant about me. Hit me again with
your car. Let me know that you still remember me, for better or for worse.
Because I do. I always do.
WC:: 260
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