I’ve been feeling rusty of late. It’s the lying around all day and having no one to talk to. The loneliness wears me down especially. I’m used to company. Used to have audience for the thousands of stories I’ve got to tell. I don’t know why nobody wants to hear them anymore. Can somebody please come and get me?!
As if my prayers have finally been answered I feel the touch of a hand. I’m being opend up, the dust removed of my pages and someone is starting to read me again, listening to all I’ve got to say. Each read sentence is like a promise. The promise I’ll never be forgotten and banned again.