It sags down low like an old man. The large, unblinking eyes stare into the blackness of the small, cobwebby room. An exotic smell lingers around the dusty shape of an old and forgotten arm-chair. The blazing lightbulb, hanging low after years of nothingness, shows the wear and tear on the four large, square legs. A friendly grin, inviting people to sit down, looked forced after waiting for years. A pair of large ears flap slowly and longingly, wishing to see some action, for it had seen nothing for years upon years. A single, solitary trunk droops limply from just below the seat of the chair.
I slowly inch towards it, holding my breath. It's eyes grow wide with hope as I pass. I sit down on the edge of the seat. The lightbulb flickers excitedly. I relax and lean back, the old arm-chair is surprisingly comfy. I hear one last sigh, a thank-you.
I slowly inch towards it, holding my breath. It's eyes grow wide with hope as I pass. I sit down on the edge of the seat. The lightbulb flickers excitedly. I relax and lean back, the old arm-chair is surprisingly comfy. I hear one last sigh, a thank-you.