poo poo fart city

Little fish eats his foods 

I awoke in a grocery store, and felt innately aware of what I was. I was in a cramped box full of other wands, myself being at the top of the box. I knew I was in the back room of the store, and that it was just a matter of time until the inevitable came, and I'd be purchased and used. I was terrified of this happening. I was still human. I had a human mind. I didn't want it to happen. I chose to savor my time in the box while it lasted.

Months of time passed, when I felt myself rise into the air. I heard the sound of a boxcutter puncturing, slicing the tape that held my box closed, and I felt the blade slice a piece of one of my bristles off. The frowning face of an employee greeted me, and I felt its sweaty palm on my handle. Being at the top of the box meant I got put on the peg first. This was good, I thought. I would be the first to join, and the last to go. Every extra second spent still in the store would be treasured. But this day would mark a period of great suffering.

I had no idea if the other toilet wands beside me were like me or not, alive, aware. As far as I knew, it was just me. When I was in the box, I could at least let my mind rest. It was dark, it was quiet, and even though I needed no sleep, I was asleep in a way. Now that I was in the store, every day would feel like torture. Customers passing by, I saw them. They grabbed other cleaning supplies. They very rarely actually grabbed the wands in front of me. But I could never let myself feel at ease. As long as the lights remained on, I would be panicked. And even when the lights were off, I was uneasy, knowing another day would soon start.

I lost track of time. After enough time, even constant fear fades into sameness. I began to think, this was just becoming torture. I knew it was inevitable. Maybe it wouldnt be so bad? I hadn't even considered WHY I was an object, just that I was. I grew to accept that, I had no need to think about what I had done to deserve it. But nonetheless I had grown to resent the life I had ended up living.

Eventually, I was the last one left. I had come to terms with it wholly. I wasnt scared anymore. I was fine. But, and this is what hurt the most, an employee came by with another box of wands. I was getting restocked. I was pushed to the back, and my vision was blocked once again. I grew so angry at this. I wanted to scream, but couldnt. I had to stew in it. It felt like a joke had been played on me. I got so mad that, somehow, I passed out.

I woke up on a conveyor belt. I didnt feel anything. I was lifted and put in a plastic bag along some other cleaning stuff. This was it. I didn't care. I was placed in the trunk of a car and I felt myself shake as the engine roared to life. This was it. I was going to my new home.

What I couldnt see, was that the car carrying me was in some trouble. Diesel trucks in front of, behind, and to the sides of. It was going to storm soon, and a light drizzle kept the roads wet.

A strong gust of wind toppled the truck to the left of my owner to the right, and having nowhere to escape to, both they and their car were crushed and killed in the wreck. I heard sirens after what felt like decades of stillness.