"Magical Furniture"

Exercise #22: "Magical Furniture"
This is a little exercise in magical realism. With realistic detail, write a scene in which your character has a conversation with a piece of furniture. Assume that the person and the piece of furniture disagree about something.

It's been a long day, I thought as I opened the door to my apartment. Too long.

And it had, in fact, been a long day. At least five million people had called in today to complain that their service wasn't working. Not only that, but to them it was my fault. Great.

"I turned on my tv, and it said that the channel would be available shortly, but nothing," says aggravated customer number 54,920. "It's been like that for hours."

"Have you tried any of the other channels, ma'am?" I ask.

"Yes," she says. "Same thing. Same little message."

"Ok," I say. "Well, Mrs. Grayson, we seem to be having a service outage in your area. I assure you that we are working on the problem as we speak, and it should be fixed soon."

"Well, soon doesn't help the fact that I missed my favorite show."

"I'm sorry about that, ma'am, but -" Click.

I can't even begin to count the amount of times people hang up on me throughout the day.

I open the door and see my beloved easy chair, whom I've named Oliver, sitting a mere 10 feet away from me. He has never looked more inviting.

Dropping my purse on the floor, I close my door and make my way toward Oliver. I sit down and lean backward, pushing out the feet rest from the bottom. With a sigh, I close my eyes.

"Bad day?" asks Oliver.

"You have no idea," I say.

"Tell me about it."

"Oh, you know," I open my eyes. "It's the same as always. I work at a job I hate, and everyone hates me for doing my job. There's nothing emotionally redeeming about working as a customer service representative in the complaints department."

"You can always quit," Oliver says.

"No," I refuse. "I can't. Have you been watching the news at all?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. The economy. I know."

There is a spot of threadbare fabric on Oliver's arm rest, and I start to pick at it.

"Besides," I say. "I don't even know what I would look for."

"I would suggest steering away from customer service, specifically in the complaints department."

I smile and close my eyes. "Too true," I say. "Too true."

5 minutes up.


That was kind of fun. I want an Oliver! That would be awesome, though, right? I mean, you come home after a long, grueling day, and you have a little therapist sitting there in your living room, waiting for you to unload. And you don't have to pay any money for this lovely little service! Someone needs to get on that one, but only if I get the rights to it.

In other news, I joined Twitter. Ugh. Don't get me wrong; I think it's an ingenious idea, and Jack Dorsey is doing very well for himself now. But... I don't know. Maybe I'm just hesitant to join anything that seems so trivial. But here I am blogging about crap to people that I don't even know (besides my sister, of course, and I'm not even sure that she reads this). I also catch myself checking my profile visit count and signing up for google analytics to see how much traffic I'm getting (the results = zilch), so why not? Why not jump on the Twitter bandwagon? I have a few friends on there as well, so it will be good to keep in contact with them.

Strangely, however, I joined less than an hour ago, and I already have 12 followers. I know that probably 1 of these people is actually a true follower, but it's awfully inflating to the ego. We'll see as time goes on.

Next up on the movie viewing list? District 9. I've been hearing quite a buzz about it, and apparently it's supposed to be brilliant. Well, maybe brilliant is too strong a word. Highly entertaining? Let's go with that. I'll let you guys know how I feel about it when I see it.

Peace and see you tomorrow!


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