Diary Entries from Inanimate Objects

"Dear Diary," written by The Flower

Day 1:

Today I feel quite vibrant and alive. I have not stopped smiling since the arrival of the sun this morning. He makes me feel warm and safe. I try my hardest to look my best for him. I open up my petals a little wider than usual when I am in his presence. I can tell I have his attention because he can’t seem to keep his rays off of me.

My beauty is rather captivating; if I do say so myself. I mean, just a few minutes ago, a lady was walking her dog, and she stopped dead in her tracks, looking right in my direction. She advanced towards me as she set her sunglasses atop her wild blond curls. I suddenly realized that I had pollen sprinkled across my mouth; the bee always forgets to clean up after his visits. She drew nearer in proximity and I began to have a small fit of panic. I prayed that she wouldn’t notice my little faux pas.

We were face to face at this point. She had a very satisfied smile on her face. I think my soft, crimson, ombré skin won her over. She continued to scan her eyes across every single part of my body, and I felt my stamen retract timidly. I always feel a little awkward when onlookers size me up.

She lifted her finger and began to pet my petals. Her finger was warm and I felt the contours of her fingerprint with every stroke. Her touch settled my anxiety, and I was thankful for her company.

It’s always nice to be approached by strangers who don’t ask for anything from me, but they walk away with contentment for life, that I managed to help them achieve.

Day 2:

It is currently raining. It has been about 2 weeks since we have had a down pour. A little peculiar considering the fact that it is April. The air is quite moist, but the temperature is comfortable.

I was beginning to feel a little dehydrated. My petals were in the very early stages of wilting, but the rain showed up just in time. My caretaker was here earlier in the week to provide the weekly dose of nutrients, but he did not water, on the account that he was anticipating it to rain later in the week.

I quite enjoy the rain. I like the way raindrops seem to grip onto my petals. They stay on for a little while, but eventually roll off my curves. Each one rolls off with a barely audible "bloop," as if to say goodbye.

I feel calm and serene on rainy days. Unlike the sun, I don't have to constantly try to keep it's attention. The rain treats me the way I ought to be treated. It doesn't shine on other things behind my back, nor does it hide when we get into an argument. The rain cares about my needs, and takes care of them.

Maybe it's time for me to re-evaluate my options. I love them both dearly and can't live without either of them. Hopefully the next day brings some much needed answers.

Day 3:

Today the sun is out again. I could hardly sleep at all last night. I was too busy trying to come up with excuses as to why I didn't dry off from the rain right away. Truth is, the rain and I still have feelings for each other. Although we do see each other every so often, the passion we feel when we're together is like nothing in this world.

The sun knows about my past relationship with the rain. The rain and I were high school sweethearts; but we went our seperate ways during my full bloom. That's when I became seriously involved with the sun. He was confident, brazen, and not to mention, really hot.

I dove head first into it. I am not a shrinking violet, and am not afraid to speak my mind.

Ironically, he took it well. I wasn't all that suprised. I was not the first flower he laid his rays on, nor would I be the last. It was a little unnerving however, that he proceeded to heat up the white daisy across the street. Whatever, he won't go far with that one, she is still blossoming and burns easily.

At least it's over and done with. Now I can count down the days until the rain and I will joyfull reunite.

Day 4:

Today is a Saturday morning, hence why there are so many people out playing in my park. Families are kicking a ball around, and I am scared it may roll over to my area. There should be a gate around my floral community. Just the other day, a chrysanthemum was trampled on, and the gardner had to dispose of her. She was quickly replaced, but if that were to ever happen to me, I'm not sure if I would be so forgiving.

A couple of toddler girls are playing near me right now. They are holding hands and wearing dainty dresses with ruffles. They are picking the flowers not too far from me, and putting them into a basket they have with them. I don't mind the idea of being picked off the roots, because it is so common, but I'm not sure if now would be the right time, considering the fact that my ex is watching, and it would be embarassing for me to be helplessly plucked away.

The little girl in the yellow dress is picking a few flowers in my row. You'd be a fool not to want to pick me. Her chubby dirt riddened hand descends upon me and with one swift yank, I am out of the soil. She is waving me around like a ragdoll. I feel so ... so ... LIBERATED.

TAKE THAT SUN! Now I can be relocated and not have to see your sweltering face ever again. I hope I will be part of a beautiful bouquet of flowers for the girls' mother or something, that way she will put me into a vase of some sort, and I will once again be the centre piece of a dining room table, for dinner guests to admire.

The Lost Earring
*I'm not using this object as the one I want, but I couldn't bear to delete it.

I started out in life as a member of a clan. There were about 4 pairs of us in each package. It was our duty to be presentable so little girls would point and stare at us with lust. My pack happened to be the one at the front of the rack, so it was only a matter of time that we would be purchased.
The day finally arrived that we would settle into a new home. The customer was a teenage girl with long, dark hair. I smiled uncontrollably as she approached us. "Ooh" I heard her say as she stroked each one of us with her soft finger tips.
The cashier slipped us into the store logoed baggy, and before I knew it, I was sitting on soft cushions in a jewellery box. She visited the jewellery box regularly and found a new pair of earrings to wear each time. I waited patiently for my turn to be displayed to the world.
I remember the day as if it were yesterday. I was joking with my friend, the pearl earrings, when I saw the familiar light of the room. I instinctively knew that it was my time.
I was a glimmering diamond cut stud earring. She wore my partner and I out to a dance that evening. We were stunners, she wore her hair up so people could get a better view of us.
After the dance, she and a group of her friends went down to the beach to have an after party. The girls and boys took off their shoes and ran along the shoreline.
Her hair out so that it would blow in the wind, but I was barely clinging on. My backing had fallen off, and I was hanging on for dear life. The fall was a long way down. I was buried beneath the grains of sand. She didn't notice at all what had happened. I tried crying out for help. She was too far now. I was rooted in the sand like a small plant. She wasn't going to come back for me. I knew it in my heart. How will the other earring manage without a companion? The thought of being alone crept up on me and I began to worry.
I worried about the tides coming in, I worried about the grains of sand getting trapped in my prongs. I did not imagine my life as a lost piece nestled in the abyss of sand. I was scared no doubt, but it could have been worse...right? I mean I could have ended up in a garbage can, or melted on the sun blazed sidewalk; but I was right here. I was surrounded by the comforting coolness of the sand. I slowly drifted into a soft slumber, and left any uncertainties for the following morning.