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Becoming.


I once was the great protector. I didn’t discriminate, I couldn’t discriminate. I shielded boats, construction equipment, doghouses, and my favorite people. For years I was in bliss, duty colored my morning, noon, and night. But as I aged, my body began to crumble and tear. I was no longer the great protector, and I was formally sent away. Exiled to live among a vast trash dump, disheveled and discarded in a crumpled heap. For years my condition only deteriorated, and it felt as if I was losing pieces of myself with every strong gust of wind.

One stranger, a man who could only be conceived as a magician, a god, and a necromancer would change everything. He came to me without hesitation, and said, “Do you want a new life, old friend?” And I screamed and screamed “Please! Please! Yes!” he nodded and carefully gathered me into his truck. We arrived at his workshop where for weeks he sewed transplant patches on my ripped skin, dyed my outside in vibrant shades, refreshed and rejuvenated my body. Finally he said I was ready to fly! And Fly I did! I was no longer just a protector, a tarp.

I had become an angel, a bird, a sky guide, a Hot Air Balloon!

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Categories: Art, WritingTags: , , , , , , , ,

5 comments

  1. This is beautiful. My name is Phoenix, so you know how much I can relate.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That is, if this was metaphorical.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Re-Purposed.

    Liked by 1 person

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