A lesson in objects
It’s your thru line object returned!
I would, Chuck. I totally would. But I'd rather find a pair of your old shoes to walk in.
I seem to like fake objects more than real objects. They're funnier.
Just now, I explained to the kid, who is doing some homework regarding replacing boring verbs with more interesting verbs, that you have given that lesson in your writing forum in the context of the distance from a severed head.
Your thru line objects include both stuff and what you teach.
I have a real early ‘60s fireplace that looks similar to that. It was such a pain and expense to rip it out of the living room that I ended up decorating around it!
The things you own end up owning you. If I may, this post made me think of those homemade porn videos you once make. Then delete. Forever. Gone. You think! but, end up somewhere in Pornhub ten years later. To own your ass. In the internet age also, no object is really lost. (Not that I made one wink-wink)
Is it the exact one? I’ll ship that thing to Tennessee tomorrow.
There were 5 items that my father carried with him from his old life with my Mom after they divorced. I watched them all be auctioned away online after his death to various people. Things he stole from family members and denied—- a wooden cow’s head that I remembered really stood out. I showed Mom the photo and she told me how she bought that with her own money when they honeymooned in Niagara Falls— she was pregnant with me at the time in ‘73. It was strange how he kept it from our first home—- 35 some years later—- how it traveled to Indiana and now— who knows. I think I’ve had the most difficult time with seeing this secretive man’s life exposed—- for anyone to see—- even down to his shoes and bathroom items— a whole lot that was just a junk drawer—- these are the last memories of him I have— all the money went to a church, claiming he had no children. His house also went to auction on August 11th. That’s the end. I’m so curious about the new life they will have and pissed off about it too. There’s no resolution.
My parents are one to two steps away from being horders. There is so much stuff they want to give me. One collection of things my dad wants me to inherit are all these rifles from WW2. I don't want a bunch of old Nazi weapons. Selling them would be a pain since they have swastikas.
All I want is my grandparents house that was mostly built by my grandpa. Crazy pipes everywhere. Super old furnace the size of 2 smart cars. The train set diorama that takes up 100 square feet or more. That would be my dream. I could write 100 books there.
The 200 creepy dolls my grandmother owns would be a bonus.
Oh all the weird vintage stuff like oil rain lamps and bumper pool tables would be spectacular.
Guess it's time for me to read Hotel New Hampshire.
Finding your old faux fireplace confirmed as having been an enlivening accouterment of the #DeadKennedys would harken back to #BillyJoel’s #WeDidntStartTheFire for we #CREATORS (Conspiracy Realist Educator Activist Truther Organizer Reader Socializers), Good Sir. Ty.
Writing prompt: Hows it gonna make its way back to you and end the story?
This is so beautiful!! I hope it helps to keep you warm in the winter!!
Sorry to bother you here, Chuck, but just wanna make sure the Hindsight Story Night is definitely happening this Monday before I drive up from LA?
I know the saying is cliche, but it truly is a small world after all.