A Piece of Furniture

He sat back and waited. He was on the floor, against the sofa, and he knew it was only a matter of time. He looked around him in every direction, and all was stillness, quietness, peacefulness. No one else was in the house at the moment to bother him. His mom had gone to the corner market, his sister was at a friend's house playing Barbie, and his dad hadn't come home from work yet.

All the furniture in the living room where he waited was rattan, the style his mom preferred. He imagined himself one of their number, transformed into a chair, table or sofa. A life of perfection and freedom from humanness. Think about it, furniture never had to go to the bathroom or brush its teeth! It didn't have to get up early and be forced to go to school. It just sat all day doing nothing, and with the curtains drawn, the sunshine that entered gave the room the wonderful comfort of light and warmth. He waited.

Another fifteen minutes went by, but he still was himself. He concentrated harder, but soon there was the sound of footsteps, and then his sister was there, laughing at him and calling him stupid again.

"It won't be long and you'll be sorry," he said.


Two weeks went by with no result, though he faithfully sat every afternoon after school and did his waiting and communing with his furniture pals. He imagined sometimes that the couch was his mom, the table his dad, and the two chairs his siblings. Then, one evening, when everyone had gone to bed, he chanced sneaking out of his room and visiting the living room furniture. It was dark and he didn't want to draw attention by turning on a lamp. So he felt his way through the darkness and found his usual place and sat down on the plush carpeting.

At first he thought he was dreaming. His legs were stiff, and his arm felt weird. He tried to get up but couldn't. He screamed but no sound came out of his mouth. Then he understood. He had no mouth. He wanted to go turn on the lamp, but then he realized that even if he'd been able to move, the light would do him no good and would not swallow the darkness. He had no eyes! In just moments all thoughts inside what was left of his "head" had ceased.


"Honey, I see you finally went downtown and picked up that end table you always wanted."

"No I didn't" she replied to her husband.

"Sure you did," he said, and pointed. "It's right there." 

"Hmm, no, I didn't pick that up. What the hell? Maybe your aunt dropped it off. Remember she gave us that loveseat we had to give away to the Salvation Army? Oh well, this will have to go too. Look, it doesn't match the rest of the furniture at all."