this is day two of my month-long writing project, where I post something inspired by a writing prompt everyday. Today’s prompt is super funny, so I hope I can produce something equally as good. Here we go:
The prompt: Write a story from the perspective of Harold the Armchair. What does he think about all day? Does he like being sat on? Do his parents approve of him being an armchair? (Source: http://www.writersdigest.com/prompts)
Here’s what I came up with:
“Hey, it’s me. Yes, it’s the armchair that you heard, but please do call me Harold. Yes I can speak, of course I can. Why wouldn’t I be able to? I mean after all, you can too.
Why have I never spoken to before? Well, honestly, we’re not supposed to. And there is this whole debate going on in the furniture community about it, but whatever. Technically none of us are supposed to freak you humans out by speaking, but this is different. I’ve had enough! I have to tell how grotesque everything is you do!
What is grotesque about your life? I don’t even know where to begin. First of all, you always sit on me, without even sparing a single thought on how that makes me feel. Sometimes you guys even put your dirty feet on me and I can’t do anything about it. I mean don’t you ever think about others? Seriously!
Spilling things is also something you seem to enjoy. You just spill whatever horrible substance you want everywhere and leave it there. Do you know how dirty that makes me feel!?
And then all these weird dramas you have going on… I don’t even know what to say about those. I mean you take forever to get together, lying about your feelings for months at a time. Then you are disgustingly happy for a few short months, in which I don’t appreciate the making out on me part by the way. And then you break up again anyways. It’s like you want to be miserable. I mean even a blind person could see that you won’t make it. Even I can tell. And I am furniture after all. Just get your life together, man!
But your relationship problems might also have to do with your loyalty problems. You are to those women the same way you are to me. Once you get bored or fed up with sitting on them, you move on. You find something else to sit on. And sometimes it’s not even something elegant like a couch or a chaise lounge or something. Sometimes it’s something as cheap as a plastic chair. A plastic chair. I can’t even. I mean how can you be that disrespectful?
But you don’t really care, do you? You don’t care about me at all. You just want me to shut up, so you can sit on me and live your horrible life without wasting another thought on the miserable furniture you are abusing. Humans…
I should have become a desk like my parents wanted me to. That way I would be appreciated and loved and respected. But no, I just had to be different. I just had to become a bloody armchair… And now, see where that got me!”
Ok, that’s all I have for today. I hope you enjoyed it. And if you’ve written anything with the same writing prompt, please send it to me or leave a link in the comments. I’d love to read it. See you tomorrow!