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Being at the beach listening to the gentle waves as the tide rolls in just before sunset seemed like the best place to start my story. The ocean has always been a place of serenity for me. (At least that's what I felt as I sat in front of the the TV and looked out the window.)
For lack of a proper given name lets call me George, George the chair. I'm homeless, casted out to fend for myself.
I used to live in a house near the waters edge, that was before I became homeless, before everyone stopped caring, before I was no longer wanted, needed, before I was replaced.
My place was in the living room in front of the TV. Everyone loved to sit on me. The kids would fight to sit on me when they wanted to watch their favorite cartoons. Their parents would sit on me together and watch their dramas. On Christmas I was the chair of choice to sit and watch the kids open their gifts. During football season I caught the stray popcorn, chips, change, or anything else that spilled during that big play that either won or lost the game. During the New Year's Eve party I was always home to the person(s) who dranked too much.
I've been replaced with new modern furniture, the kids have TV's in their rooms so they stopped sitting on me, their parents didn't spend as much time together any more.
Time passed and I found myself on the curb with the trash cans. People passed by and looked at me remembering the time they owned a chair just like me.
The ocean; (Sigh)....I love it here. The place I saw when I looked out of the window from the living room .
As the sun sets over my shoulder the question of my fate..... my future, lies in the balance. I'm a chair no longer wanted. I've been thrown out after serving my purpose year after year. Velvet is no longer kool unless of course you're a velvet painting of Elvis.
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