A Main Player

 

One day I'll get my own back. I'll make myself scarce. Really get myself lost so even I don't know where I am. What if he put me down in the dark? Not in a dark place, but when it's dark. He wouldn't know where I was and I certainly wouldn't. That'd teach him. Mind you, if I can't be found what might become of me? He would have to change me then I'd be finished. All my friends would need to be changed too. Homeless, that's what I would be. He would have to get rid of everything and replace it all.

He calls himself a writer. I lay here again listening to him clacking away at his computer telling a story or something. I could tell stories about some of the things I've heard, but I can't write. I don't know how. Wait a moment. Here he comes. He's put his glasses down in front of me - and I can see his computer screen. Amazing. He's writing about me. Me. I feature in one of his stories. A key player, indeed. I suppose he thinks more of me than I thought.

It usually happens when he's in a hurry to go somewhere. I ask you, what does it take to look after me? He's supposed to be so clever. Well, I think he's just stupid. More than a little daft. That's what I think. So careless. I spend most of my time lying down somewhere and even though I know where I am, he hardly ever does. It is really quite depressing, being lost most of the time. He always says that I am not lost, just that he didn't know where he'd put me. Didn't notice! How can you put me down and not notice. Am I that unimportant? The things I do for him. I look after a number of important things and so without me, he'd be helpless, wouldn't he?

Maybe he's right. If I am only misplaced because he doesn't remember where he put me, then as he always eventually does find me, I'd not be lost. It's very pleasing to be wanted as he's always so pleased to see me when he does find me. This almost makes up for it. Almost. But one day, maybe I will play a game. It would be a dangerous game though. If I really did get lost, then I'd pay a very high price for being playful. It would only be a joke, but he'd never see it that way. I know that. He gets so annoyed. He may laugh afterwards though only because he's found me. If I was lost it would be forever and that would be it. For me.

Look at that: picked up his glasses, so he hadn't lost those today. Or me, as I am right here with them. That must be how he can't find me sometimes; he can't even see me. Small wonder I seem to get lost. I'm never lost, but he is. I am possibly the most important thing in his life and he takes such poor care of me.

Just a bunch of keys.

© Louis Brothnias (2005)

Creative Plot