I was excited. I couldnÃ¢â¬â¢t believe my luck. Imagine it. Me. A simple polymer! I would be utilised by thousands for as long as my non degradable existence allowed. The day finally arrived and I was moulded, dyed red and cooled before beginning the long journey north to a city called Middlesbrough where I would be placed in a stadium. At first, I was speechless but then I understood that I was supposed to stay silent if the majority of the crowd were to be my barometer of behaviour. I wanted to scream out with my high molecular mass to celebrate my achievements and say Ã¢â¬ÅLook at me! IÃ¢â¬â¢m a red plastic chair supporting Boro fans!Ã¢â¬Â After a few years the excitement waned until it simply became a dark deepening depression as I and the thousands of other red plastic chairs were left alone and unwanted. I prayed for an end. Anything was better than this. I dreamt of my polyurethanes self combusting, my crystalline and partially amorphous molecular structure vanishing in a blaze but I knew that modern moulding techniques had built me to last. I began to write poetry. It wasnÃ¢â¬â¢t great. IÃ¢â¬â¢m a red plastic chair. Someone please use me. Before I fade in the sun. After a while; I invented an alternative life for myself and began to think of myself as a horse running amidst fields of green. I donÃ¢â¬â¢t know why I imagined a horse though. IÃ¢â¬â¢m still here. I write this so that other moulded plastic seats are aware of mine and thousands of others terrible ordeals in this stadium of silence.