Writing Club: Item Description

For this prompt, we had to describe something without really saying what it was. I decided to put myself in the place of a beloved object of mine...



Well, I can say this much for myself: I ain’t no Cinderella.

For one thing, Cinderella had the chance to find her Prince and bear him a brood of royal, photogenic but otherwise very stupid children (I know this because their mother left no alternative). I was never meant to live so I can never die. Barren, void of life and re-productivity, what else is there for me to do?

Secondly, Cinderella’s looks got her a fairy godmother, fancy dress, and two glass slippers that were all her own. My looks (though my only virtue) got me a bucket of dust collecting on my head, tied to a stake awaiting a fire that will never come, and stuck sharing one too-big-for-me-glass-slipper with 20 other ones-of-my-kind. Tell me THAT’S fair.

What’s more, Cinderella got carried away to a grand and glorious castle while the evil beings who tried to control her got the boot in a big way. MY control freak still runs the place, and all I get a view of is everyone’s lazy self sitting on the sofa, not even paying attention to me at all, after all that work they put into me! I was made to be lovely and then forgotten.

Hmm…I wonder what the one with headphones is writing about. Maybe if I put a little more rouge on she’ll notice me and take me home and give me a breath of fresh air and a better view. Darn it! Why don’t I sweat prettily like my better selves do? I have no pheromones with which to attract a mate…or anything, for that matter…

Oh well. At least when everyone else here is rotting away sixty years from now in some burial ground, I’ll probably still be around to tell the tale. That’s the joy of being synthetic.

(I am the red silk flower sitting on the vase on the entertainment center in the living room of Celeste’s and Charissa’s apartment!)