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The Sweet Nothings of Inanimate Objects

What will happen if inanimate objects like tables, chairs, lamps, beds, etc., start gossiping sweet-nothings about humans?

By Peeping_SoulPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
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The Sweet Nothings of Inanimate Objects
Photo by Christopher Jolly on Unsplash

Can Inanimate Objects Talk?

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the word inanimate as "lacking consciousness or power of motion" or "not animated or lively".in short, they are not endowed with the human trait to talk to each other or even get influenced by other objects.

This brings us to one interesting question.

What will happen if inanimate objects like tables, chairs, lamps, beds, etc., start gossiping sweet-nothings about humans? Would life be the same again? Can they pry into our private lives?

This prose poem is inspired by the gossip of inanimate objects. that is. if they start talking about us!!!!

She tottered out in the dead of night,

her hair and dress a disheveled sight.

He trotted behind her, full of zest,

her red lipstick adorning his hairy chest.

As the humans left, pulling in the lock,

The inanimates started their gossipy talk,

encircling together, they began slanging things,

slandering the humans with sweet nothings.

The pillow mumbled to the mattress,

“I bet that chick is an actress,

the breath of her mesmerizing kisses,

is no less than her shimmering tresses”.

The mattress gasped in terrible pain,

“I hope this brute does not come again.

He smashed me black and blue all over,

pummelling me shriveled as my mattress cover.”

The lamp was gloomy and dejected,

“My fate is always rotten as expected,

everyone shuts me off in nightly shades,

during their illicit, amorous escapades.”

The ashtray whistled in a throaty voice,

“My heart is dancing in blissful rejoice,

her gentle hands caressed my studded exterior,

making my every second so cheerier, so superior.”

The air conditioner seethed at the ashtray,

“You repulsive moron, if I had my way,

I would have banished the girl and her brute,

to a godforsaken place of filthiest repute”.

The door announced in his baritone voice,

“Friends, you are inanimate objects; you have no choice,

this gossiping during working hours is no less than a crime,

another customer is about to arrive, anytime.”

fact or fictioninspirationalsurreal poetrysocial commentary
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About the Creator

Peeping_Soul

I am an executive who likes spending time reading and writing about almost everything under the sun.I love writing within the cusp of relationships, history, and creativity where boundaries are blurred, and possibilities are immense.

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