A Monologue, By That Thing In The Parking Lot

Our narrator, in the rain, in the parking lot, just before he began to speak. (copyright, me)

Back then, I was really something. I had purpose. Nothing moved without my say so. It looks like that time has passed. Here I am now, sitting in some parking lot, in the rain.

I made things work. I got things done. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m smart enough to know I didn’t do it all. On my own, I was just something. But when I was part of something I’d keep the others in line and help them do their jobs. They did so much. We worked together, we were like a machine, we were a team. Read the rest of this entry »