I started life in a big forest as a tiny little tree among giants! I saw many seasons come and go; periods that were bitterly cold, and very hot at other times. I sometimes felt like I was going to die of thirst, but then the rain came down; it was the sweetest water straight from heaven!
I grew into a big tree, but the men who came to check on me and my friends said we weren't ready yet.
Ready for what, we wondered, till one day when they came and cut us down. It hurt, but they did not hear our cries. I was terrified when they put me on top of a large truck filled with the other long tree stumps. Some of the older trees told me not to be scared, that I would soon be turned into beautiful wood and become useful objects. I became curious, wondering what I was going to become.
I did not have to wait too long, as I started looking very different. I was turned into gleaming slabs of wood and was taken to a carpenter who made furniture. I heard him say he was making a telephone stool.
I had no idea what that was, but soon learnt. I was beautiful!
The family who bought me put an object on top of me. It made loud ringing noises, and the people in the house used to run to see who could get to it first. They would sit on the seat and talk for what seemed like hours at a time. Especially the woman who stayed at home when the man went to work, and the children went to school.
I wonder what they would have said if they knew that I heard all their secrets! The Mom of the house used to talk about cooking and baking, about the children, and what they got up to. Sometimes even complained about the man. The children used to talk to their friends and make plans to meet on the weekends and go to the beach or to the movies. It all sounded so exciting. The Dad only used the telephone when someone needed advice on how to fix things; he did not spend so much time sitting by me. But he was the one who fixed me when the wooden screws came loose.
That ringing instrument was called a telephone. They used to get new ones, but one day they stopped using the telephone. They started talking into an object they carried around in their hands.
What was going to become of me, I wondered?
I did not have to wait too long to see; they started using me to display beautiful items.
One day, their bossy tuxedo cat started claiming me as one of his favourite seats. I still stand at the entrance to the home, so I can still see everyone coming and going.
Even though I am old now, and not sure what they call me now, I am happy to have a new friend who is much calmer and does not talk as much as they did into that telephone!
This has been my response to The Silverbloggers Chronicles - Prompt #10 - The Secret Life of an Object where we were given a writing prompt:
Choose an object from your past鈥攁 favourite toy, an old piece of furniture, a cherished photo album or anything else and tell its story from its perspective.
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