I want to believe that you've encountered such a person when you were working on the clean-up crew, but I suspect you've just been Dilbert strips recently :)
The clairvoyant garbage woman "You're going to throw me away on Tuesday," said the kettle. "Exactly five years and eighteen days and seven hours after we first met. Discarded. Like trash." Eloise looked up from her sublebrity gossip magazine and gazed for a moment at her kettle. Like many things in her kitchen it was pink and cylindrical, but it was the only one talking to her. "What?" she said, wondering if her wife, Pam, was playing some kind of elaborate joke. "You're going to throw me away next Tuesday," said the kettle. Its voice was slightly hollow as though it were empty, and Eloise's eyes dropped to her just-made cup of coffee as she thought that. She blushed, wondering if she'd somehow disrespected the kettle, and the absurdity of that thought struck her too. "Ok, Pam? Pam! This was sort-of funny, well done, haha!" "Pam's not here," said the kettle. "She's at work. She's going to bring you flowers home this evening though because she wants to remind you that she loves you." Eloise stood up and checked under the table, then behind the door, then in all the cupboards. All of them proved empty, so she got her phone and enabled its torch-mode and hunted a bit harder for speakers and microphones, and still found none. "Kettle's don't talk," she said at last. "So this is an elaborate hoax. But I don't get why. Shouldn't you at least tell me that the killer is inside the house?" "She is," said the kettle. "The killer is you. You kill me. Next Tuesday." "Why?" Eloise, already flustered from going through all her cupboards, lost her temper. "Why the hell do I get rid of you? Because you won't shut up? Shut up! Shut up!" "Because I break," said the kettle, and the hollowness of its voice sounded almost mournful. Eloise's chest heaved as she sucked air into her lungs and her mind seethed with thoughts. "If you break," she said, gasping slightly between each breath, "why shouldn't I throw you away?" "Discarded like garbage," said the kettle. "After five years of faithful service. You don't even shed a tear for me. It would be like flushing a dead goldfish down the toilet." "Done that," said Eloise. "I chucked a dead cat off a bridge into a river once as well." "Monster!" The kettle shrieked as though it were a whistling kettle instead of a cheap electric model. "You have till Tuesday to change my mind," said Eloise. "You can start by telling me how come you're talking." "I don't know," said the kettle. "It happened when I saw my own demise in the future." Eloise tapped a foot, finally having got her breathing back under control. "Clairvoyant garbage," she said, humming a little. "The only one I hope?" "You're going to tear my wrapper off and eat my insides!" came a tiny, shrieking voice from the fridge. "Nope," said the kettle. "You know you've got an unhealthy obsession with pink?"
2 comments:
I want to believe that you've encountered such a person when you were working on the clean-up crew, but I suspect you've just been Dilbert strips recently :)
The clairvoyant garbage woman
"You're going to throw me away on Tuesday," said the kettle. "Exactly five years and eighteen days and seven hours after we first met. Discarded. Like trash."
Eloise looked up from her sublebrity gossip magazine and gazed for a moment at her kettle. Like many things in her kitchen it was pink and cylindrical, but it was the only one talking to her.
"What?" she said, wondering if her wife, Pam, was playing some kind of elaborate joke.
"You're going to throw me away next Tuesday," said the kettle. Its voice was slightly hollow as though it were empty, and Eloise's eyes dropped to her just-made cup of coffee as she thought that. She blushed, wondering if she'd somehow disrespected the kettle, and the absurdity of that thought struck her too.
"Ok, Pam? Pam! This was sort-of funny, well done, haha!"
"Pam's not here," said the kettle. "She's at work. She's going to bring you flowers home this evening though because she wants to remind you that she loves you."
Eloise stood up and checked under the table, then behind the door, then in all the cupboards. All of them proved empty, so she got her phone and enabled its torch-mode and hunted a bit harder for speakers and microphones, and still found none.
"Kettle's don't talk," she said at last. "So this is an elaborate hoax. But I don't get why. Shouldn't you at least tell me that the killer is inside the house?"
"She is," said the kettle. "The killer is you. You kill me. Next Tuesday."
"Why?" Eloise, already flustered from going through all her cupboards, lost her temper. "Why the hell do I get rid of you? Because you won't shut up? Shut up! Shut up!"
"Because I break," said the kettle, and the hollowness of its voice sounded almost mournful.
Eloise's chest heaved as she sucked air into her lungs and her mind seethed with thoughts.
"If you break," she said, gasping slightly between each breath, "why shouldn't I throw you away?"
"Discarded like garbage," said the kettle. "After five years of faithful service. You don't even shed a tear for me. It would be like flushing a dead goldfish down the toilet."
"Done that," said Eloise. "I chucked a dead cat off a bridge into a river once as well."
"Monster!" The kettle shrieked as though it were a whistling kettle instead of a cheap electric model.
"You have till Tuesday to change my mind," said Eloise. "You can start by telling me how come you're talking."
"I don't know," said the kettle. "It happened when I saw my own demise in the future."
Eloise tapped a foot, finally having got her breathing back under control.
"Clairvoyant garbage," she said, humming a little. "The only one I hope?"
"You're going to tear my wrapper off and eat my insides!" came a tiny, shrieking voice from the fridge.
"Nope," said the kettle. "You know you've got an unhealthy obsession with pink?"
Greg - oh yeah, I always forget about that character. Well, maybe my subconscious doesn't...
Hahaha, the voice from the fridge utterly got me. This is something that could easily be horror, but you keep it comedic rather masterfully.
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