No. 48/100 flash fiction stories; based on the prompt “what your desk thinks about at night”
It’s cold in here. And too crowded. And too noisy. How do humans make such loud, obnoxious noises while they’re asleep? How can anyone down this whole block get any rest with that cacophony going on?
Oh well, it’s not like I could sleep anyway. But if I could, I would have filed several noise complaints right now. If I had hands to fill out the paperwork…
Bright side. (How am I supposed to find a bright side at night…?) I guess I do get a break from my human pounding on my head all the time. Honestly, how does she do it? Word after word, sentence after sentence… A lesser desk would have given up by now, but not me. And, more than that, I hold up the decorative knick-knacks (or, as I like to call them, litter) my human leaves on top of me all the time. Even now. Come on, there’s even a bust! What other desk is forced to hold a marble bust 24/7?
Fine, I guess it’s not the worst job in the world. At least I’m not outside; I got a taste of it when we moved and I was not a fan. Too hot, too humid, too gross. And it rains all the time, too. Florida is not the place for wooden desks, I’m telling you that now.
The snores have gotten louder. How have they gotten louder? Ah, how I miss the days of having my own room. Who ever came up with downsizing?
I’ll try to ignore it, maybe imagine the stories that’ll be born tomorrow when my human starts pounding on me again.
I guess even that’s preferable to the snoring…
. . .
My poor desk! My husband and I had to downsize a few months ago and move to a much smaller apartment. I no longer have an office, so my desk is in the bedroom—and my husband snores like there’s no tomorrow. But I love him anyway! ♥️
(I feel like I need to give my desk a hug now…)
Happy writing!
—E.J.
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