Image: Pexels from Pixabay
I was finding it frustratingly bothersome that the chair I inherited from my Great Aunt Alice had a bad habit of finding its way out into the street.
Great Aunt Alice had been an eccentric in so many ways, and her furniture seemed to have attained the same attitude.
It was as if the chair was making a stand, which in itself was ironic as it was a seat.
This behaviour went on for weeks before I decided to leave the chair where it clearly wanted to go and see what happened. My basic philosophy on life.
Sure, enough I was awakened by a crash out in the street. My street was mostly quiet until 2am when the Number 47 bus came by on its way to the depot.
I rushed out to find the chair in a poor state, looking many things but not a chair. The bus had not stopped to apologize for the destruction and so chair bits were left across the road for me to clean up.
Like my Great Aunt Alice, I laid the chair to rest in the back yard though the occasional chair leg protruding from the ground does worry me.