I hear her crying and I want to comfort her. She calls for him, for her husband, but I’m inert and can not move.
I’m her favorite. There was never a question. When she sat and knit for long hours she chose me. When it was time to curl up with a good book I was the one she came for. When he proposed to her I was there. I was there for her through flu, cold, tears, and happiness.
He passes through the house in a haze of grief. Her funeral was only last week. People have been in and out, several have cried in my embrace. I miss her so.
Should I be telling you this? I mean, it’s his grief and his story, but I don’t think he sees me. I’m just a chair after all.
It’s been a month. A ball of yarn appeared on my cushion. It was in the basket next to me. He blames the cat. The cat ran off last year. It’s her favorite brand of yarn. She’s trying to communicate with him.
I was moved last night. I’m not sure how she managed it but she did it. I think she’s getting stronger. She says she’s cold, so cold.
He only noticed when he tripped over my leg. I tried to apologize but I have no mouth. He kicked me when he righted himself. It wasn’t my fault.
If I could have I would have shown him the book she left on the cushion for him: The Frozen Wastes.
He found the book. It’s been a couple days but he happened to see it when he passed by. He sat on me, I assume to look at it. She left him a present through. He was stabbed by a knitting needle as he sat. He didn’t sit long.
I think he blames me. He muttered something about “stupid chair” when he walked off.
He scowls at me when he passes by.
She left him another message. Another book, they did love their books. They used to talk to each other in book titles. It’s how they first fell in love. Save Me was the book she left. I don’t think he’s understanding.
Another book today, two actually, Help me and Frozen Wasteland. He looked scared when he found them.
I heard him on the phone today. He’s talking about getting rid of me. I don’t want to leave here. She put me here and I’d like to stay. I remember how the sun used to come through the window and turn her hair to gold. I want to stay here with my memories of her.
He brought a friend over, they’re moving me. I don’t wanna go outside, it’s cold and I’ll mildew! Please take me back inside. I like being by her bookshelf of favorites. Look, there’s the indents where my feet go. If you could just put me back that would be nice.
I’m outside. The pile of wood in front of me makes me shiver. It should be built into something, not just dumped there.
They’re lighting the wood. I really don’t like that. It’s good wood. It would like to be something. A nice table perhaps.
Wait, where are you taking me? No! Please stop! I’m not supposed to be in the fire. Please! Save me!
“I’m sure you’ll feel better now Joe. Best thing for possessed things is to burn them.” Chuck clapped his buddy on the shoulder as they watched Mary’s favorite chair become engulfed in the flames.
“I feel like I’m losing her all over again. Wait … is that, I saw her face in the flames!” Joe lunges forward and almost trips headlong into the fire. Chuck grabs him and yanks him back. He leads his friend to the lawn chair and gently pushes him into it.
“Dude, have another beer.”
Neither one sees the fire shift closer.