I was excited.
I couldnââ¬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 ââ¬ÅLook at me! Iââ¬â¢m a red plastic chair supporting Boro fans!ââ¬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 wasnââ¬â¢t great.
Iââ¬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 donââ¬â¢t know why I imagined a horse though.
Iââ¬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.
I couldnââ¬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 ââ¬ÅLook at me! Iââ¬â¢m a red plastic chair supporting Boro fans!ââ¬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 wasnââ¬â¢t great.
Iââ¬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 donââ¬â¢t know why I imagined a horse though.
Iââ¬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.
