straight down the line

Testament of a Wayward Tool

When I saw an assignment that personifies household objects, I just had to complete it. I am one of those people who talks to inanimate objects all the time, especially when I’m frustrated or excited, so the assignment “monologue of a household tool” is right up my alley. Instead of talking to the tool, I had to get into its head (metaphorically: I know these objects aren’t really alive, don’t worry). I wonder if you can guess the tool?

I sit on a shelf in the dark most of the time. My ancestors were used almost daily, but those times have passed. Some days, the door in front of me and pulls me down from the shelf. Very carefully, my owner sets me in the center of the table. My owner towers over me so I can’t see what is happening, but suddenly the top of my head feels warm. I can hear soft music playing in the background, and the lights are turned off. Now I know how my ancestors must have felt on romantic nights like this. Glowing with happiness, I watch my owner and the other human eat dinner and laugh with each other. I don’t even notice that I am shrinking. My owner blows on me, and I can’t see anything anymore. Less than a day later, I end up back on the shelf in the dark.
One sleepy evening, I was just about to fall asleep when I was jerked awake suddenly when my owner grabbed me off my shelf. It was dark outside the cabinet, which is odd for this time of the evening. Barely awake, I glowed for my owner as noises of thunder rolled in the background. I wonder why it is so dark and my owner chose me over the lights. I’m so excited! Maybe the old days are coming back, and I will be loved, and…wait, what? The lights are on again? But I didn’t see my owner turn them on. My heart sinks as my owner blows on me and says, “Finally, the electricity is back.” I’m back on my shelf, almost as tall as the day I was created. I curse the electric lights. Maybe I will be loved some other day.

from candles perspective

                   This is what I see

When I sat down to write this monologue it took me a while to know what to write about. What tool should I choose? There are many tools surrounding me in my dorm, but I know which one is missing. Students are not allowed to have candles. Personally, I love candles, so its hard to live without them here. I decided to use this melancholy feeling and flip it on its head for this assignment. I think a candle must feel melancholy when it isn’t used. In my house, candles are only used for two purposes: mood lighting for dinner and extra light when the power goes off. Therefore, I have reimagined these two instances from the candle’s point of view. It occurred to me that candles might not like to be used because they would shrink and eventually wouldn’t exist anymore, but because the whole purpose of a candle is to use it, they are probably not to worried about that fact. Additionally, you may notice that there are no genders attached to the humans in this monologue. That is because candles have no gender, and probably don’t recognize gender in others. However, candles probably do realize the competition from electric lighting leaves them in the dust (or in the dark). As such, my candle spends an inordinate amount of time reminiscing on what it would have been like before electric light, and less time looking around and taking in its surroundings (which are shrouded in shadow anyway).

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