I’ve been here for years. Unloved. Unnoticed. That’s me.
Nobody ever asks how I’m feeling. No one ever asks what I want. It’s just take, take, take. So much noise, so much chaos. Hands clamping around me, legs running around. Sirens, shouting, panic and relief. Then it all stops as quickly as it began. Once again, silence.
When they leave, I cry. I’m not ashamed to say it. Tears roll down my cold, red body and form tiny rivers that trickle forever onwards down the street. Once a sparrow danced and bathed in my tears. They soon stopped after that.
Posted as part of a 100 word photo prompt by Friday Fictioneers.