Tale of a Ceiling Fan

several house hold implaments consider their lives.

"Honey," Tim shouted from the living room, "I think there's something wrong with the ceiling fan."

 

"Is it still running," Janet questioned from the bedroom?

 

Oh, sure that'll help, thought the ceiling fan sarcastically; just leave me running like you have for this last week.

 

"Yeah, but it's making funny sounds," Tim replied.

 

Urgh, the ceiling fan groaned as it desperately tried to rip itself from the ceiling, One of these days I'm going to fall on you...As soon as I figure out a way past these bolts.

 

"Well leave it alone, and come in here.  I have something I want to show you," Janet seductively replied.

 

Tim gave a sheepish grin and left the ceiling fan alone, as he closed the door to the bedroom behind him.  The checkered patterned tile the only thing left to comfort the ceiling fan again.

 

Hey, Ceiling Fan, it's me Window Fan, you should see what they're doing in here! IT IS HOT!

 

The ceiling fan wobbled again, desperately trying to throw itself to the floor and end its miserable existence before the window fan had a chance to go into detail, but once again, as many times before, it failed miserably.

 

Well, she's wearing this hot catholic school girl skirt, and has this tiny single button silk top. One that really pushes her tits almost up to her chin, the window fan began to explain, Oh man it looks like they're gonna do it like on the Discovery Channel...

 

WINDOW FAN, the ceiling fan interjected, Do you think that maybe, just maybe, for today you could forget that we have telepathy and not share the details with me?

 

What's wrong I thought this was the only entertainment you ever got?

 

NO, it USED to be the only entertainment I ever got, but now it’s just getting redundant.

 

Oh...okay then, what you want to talk about?

 

How about we remember back in the good old days?

 

Oh you mean that time she let him stick it in the back door...

 

NO! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO!

 

What about when he put a saddle on his back and she rode around on him like a cow girl, and then...

 

The ceiling fan began to wobble again.

 

I think, my dear window fan, that ceiling fan wants to discus about when his good friend corner fan was with us, office a/c fan stated.

 

Oh, I hear through the grapevine that there was some sweet...HEAD way made on the big job the other day, hey Office, the window fan questioned knowingly.

 

My, dear Window, when I was in my youth and still in the bedroom I used to think as you did, but now that I'm older and in the office my opinion has turn from wanting it so much and being satisfied to watch it, to, only being interested if I'm involved, and I'm pretty sure in the next couple years that will fade too.

 

GUYS, the ceiling fan interrupted, do you think maybe we could discuss something other then our owner's sex lives?

 

For a moment they all quiet to consider what else they could talk about, only the steady rhythmic thumping of the head board, squeaking of the bed springs, and slanderous violation of the third commandment to break the silence.

 

Well, ceiling fan finally questioned?

 

How about we discuss one of the books that Tim has been reading, Office finally suggested?

 

Why what's he been reading, asked Window, his mind obviously somewhere else?

 

The Karma Sutra.

 

The ceiling fan again began to wobble.

 

Look, Ceiling, I'd love to discuss something else, but being the office a/c fan in this household doesn't exactly lend me the opportunity to discover what the great minds have written or the current happenings of the world at large.  In fact, most of the books in this "office" are of the pornographic nature and have little to do with thought at all.  It is really hard to escape the disgrace of this place, especially with Window here.

 

OHHHHHH, Window retorted, What a money shot!

 

Well you have a point there at least, Ceiling replied dismally, You know it wouldn't even be that bad if my life weren’t so completely horrible.  I mean all day I just stare at this floor and watch it spin around and around and around.  Neither of you know what it feels like to be in such a hell.  I can't even watch the ants on the floor because everything is spinning around and around.  Do you have any idea what that's like?  Of course you don't.

 

Oh please, my dear boy, you think you have it so rough, Office sneered, you and Window are both absurdly content next to what I have to put up to.  I sit hear all day with my great intelligence and unbounded mind, and what am I forced to read?  The covers of smut magazines, that's what.  For once I just wish that my great mind could be inspired by something of worth.

 

Oh please, I have the heart of an artist, and what do I get to use my soul and longing to see the great wonders of the world for?  I get to watch this floor, that's what.  You intellectuals think you have it so rough because your knowledge drives you to madness, but its us artists that are truly driven mad by our greatness, because when you look at the wall you need only analyze it and discover what it is before your life is complete, but we artists must analyze it and discover what it could be.

 

Complete dribble, Office replied angrily, It is the intellectual who must build the wall so that the artist can paint it, it is the intellectual who must discover the stars so that the writer can wonder about them, and it is the intellectual who must create the bombs so that the musician can sing against them.  You artist are just so wrapped up in a quirk of the mind that has given you a talent that few posses that your egos take hold and leave you thinking yourself so great, but it is the intellectual, and not the artist, that paves the way to greatness.   

 

OH DON'T STOP NOW, SHE'S ALMOST THERE, Window once again shouted from the bedroom.

 

Well at least we can both agree that he's utterly useless, Ceiling stated dismally.

 

Agreed, Office affirmed.

 

Oh, I wouldn't count me out yet, Window responded, Because I may not be the great intellectual that Office is, and I may not have the passion of an artist like Ceiling has, but at least I've learned how to conquer the maddening and disheartening effects of the world.Window pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts, You two are both self righteous, upstarts.  You think you're the only ones who suffer? I have to sit hear every day suck the air out of this room and into the world around me, only cockroaches wanting to partake in that tasty treat, and since I doubt either of you has tasted the sweet taste of the sweat rolling down a man's a*s crack, as he thumps and pounds his seventy year old hips against his sixty year old wife’s rather dusty and leathery cavern, but let me tell you it ain't sugar and candy, that's for sure.  I'm also not sure if you know it or not, but a rogue semen sample flying into your eye isn't pleasant either, which both me and her could tell you.  You guys go on though, tell me how not being able to please your wants and cravings for stimulation cause you so much distress, meanwhile I'll sit here and get bumped by an orgasmic foot flying through the air knocking me closer and closer to the edge of the window and a two story drop to the street below.  Hey, I have an idea, why don't one of you trade me places?  You can be stimulated by the fear of death to write great horror stories, Ceiling, and you can figure out if you'll hit terminal velocity at this height, Office.  If you truly had an artist's soul, Ceiling, you'd find beauty in even the most deplorable features, and if you where a true intellectual, Office, you'd be content to learn what you can from the little you have and turn it into something more.  Even though, I'm not as "smart" or "artistic" as you two at least I've found happiness in what I have and have thus beaten back the sadness and cruelty that life forces on everyone, for you see...AH! THE FOOT!

 

As Window is finally kicked from his position in the window he let's out a final shout before hitting the concrete bellow, where he smashes into many different pieces.  In the other room the elderly couple looks out the window to make sure no one was harmed bellow and then laugh together at the hilariousness of it all, while in the other rooms Ceiling and Office try to control the shear terror of the whole situation.

 

Finally Ceiling breaks the silence, Did you figure out his terminal velocity?

 

No, did you find beauty in his broken bits?

 

No.

 

They both sit rather dryly contemplating it all.

 

Well I never really liked him anyway, Ceiling states.

 

You are right, he was too much of a sex hound, Office responds.

 

Author's Note

some sex talk

Reviews

[Sarah Takacs]

Great job, Deej. Other than the standard grammar fiend stuff (hear/here, shear/sheer, comma placement, and how to write a question in dialogue), which I will probably hound you about IRL with my red pen of doom--if you buy me drinks, I'll be nice and use the green one instead, lol--I honestly have no complaints.

It's a very creative concept, and well-written, at that. You did a great job capturing different voices, to the point where you didn't really need the signifiers of who's saying what. (on that note, a little too much "stating" "questioning" "responding". I'm a big fan of "sneered" "sighed" and other descriptive methods for indicating speach, but words like "stated" et al are really boring verbs. Worse than plain old-fashioned "said," I think.) Which was easy to do with Ceiling vs Wall, but Office got his own voice, too, and that was probably more difficult--distinguishing between intellectual snobbery versus artistic snobbery--but you definately pulled it off. Good job!

[Celtic Cat]

LMFAO. Holy brain, batman. Where in the world did this come from? You are either a certified genius, truly bored or insane, or simply a wonderful, imaginative and creative writer. Your pick! lol
Excellent, excellent, excellent!! Very nice treat. Thanks so much for sharing this with us all. Absolutely enjoyed every minute of this read.

[Bob Carney, "Soon ..]

If only these walls could talk. lol
I enjoyed this piece because it's more than comedic. It's delving into the social and philosophical ideals of our own lives as well as the ignoramt misplacement of envy and jealousy in all of us. Great metaphorical satire.
Couple of things...

"Is it still running," Janet questioned from the bedroom?
"Is it still running?" Janet questioned from the bedroom. Put the question mark after the question rather than at the end of descriptive action.

"Yeah, but it's making funny sounds," Tim replied.
"Yeah, but it's making funny sounds." Tim replied. No need for a comma there, because his sentence is complete.

to make sure no one was harmed bellow
to make sure no one was harmed below... Drop the extra "l" in there.

Very smart to not use quotation marks around the fan's lines and italicize them. It makes them stand out, and seperates them from human speech. It's a good visual aid in distinguishing the different voices, and reminding us they represent thoughts.
Very good write, thanks for giving me a laugh this early in the morning.

[Holly Marsh]

Now I'm all paranoid that my lamps are telepathically conversing with one another...

Not that they'd have anything scandalous to talk about.

Good story. Loved the fact that you withheld the elderly ages of the fan owners (or if you didn't, sorry I didn't catch on, and it was funnier that way. Yes, I am using "funnier." Sorry.).

It makes me wonder how long the fans have all known one another- they bicker like they're as old as their owners. :)

[An Ordinary Woman]

Wow. Extremely creative and so much fun. Loved it. When I saw the title, I really wasn't sure what to expect. This is truly great stuff!

OH DON'T STOP NOW, SHE'S ALMOST THERE, Window once again shouted from the bedroom.

Well at least we can both agree that he's utterly useless, Ceiling stated dismally.

Agreed, Office affirmed. .... rofl

[Blackbirdsong]

At first I thought this was going to be just some new way of doing erotica, but when you got into the various arguments and each fan stood for something else, you really engaged me. I loved the ending too. That was perfect.

Some little things I found -

turned//my opinion has turn

artists//You artist are just so wrapped up in

possess//you a talent that few posses

This was quite an interesting read and I look forward to reading more of you.

take care :)

[Gary H]

Super cool read. Really funny and fantastic idea. Hey, that's one of the reasons why I read work on here to find an adventurous piece of writing. I've found it - it's here. Great work. Perfect layout and all reads really well.

Might have to rearrange the office now though!

[Brian Osterhouse]

Not only did this crack me up, but I loved the outside view of our everday activities through the eyes of inanimate objects. My couch probably has more to say about me and know me better than my 'friends'

[Vanessa Whiteley]

Great beginning. �Urgh, the ceiling fan groaned as it desperately tried to rip itself from the ceiling�.

I love the personification of the fans, their distinct characters. Ceiling fan reminds me of Marvin

the depressed ship�s robot in �Hitchhiker�s Guide to the Galaxy�. �Here I am, brain the size of a planet, and they ask me to take you to the bridge. Call that job satisfaction, 'cause I don't.

�I sit hear all day with my great intelligence and unbounded mind, and what am I forced to read? The covers of smut magazines, that's what�.
I like the dialogue and the fans� ability to use telepathy.

WINDOW FAN, the ceiling fan interjected, Do you think that maybe, just maybe, for today you could forget that we have telepathy and not share the details with me?

I am learning things about fans I never knew

now that I'm older and in the office my opinion has turn from wanting it so much and being satisfied to watch it

How do they manage (given the opportunity) their sex lives?

The discussion of the artistic life compared to the intellect works well to. I like this part.

It is the intellectual who must build the wall so that the artist can paint it, it is the intellectual who must discover the stars so that the writer can wonder about them, and it is the intellectual who must create the bombs so that the musician can sing against them.

I think you mean �chequered patterned tile.�

And isn�t window fan rather inconsistent as he seems to enjoy the voyeurism at the beginning but concludes:

since I doubt either of you has tasted the sweet taste of the sweat rolling down a man's a*s crack, as he thumps and pounds his seventy year old hips against his sixty year old wife�s rather dusty and leathery cavern, but let me tell you it ain't sugar and candy, that's for sure.

He is either making the best of things to begin which given the latter description seems plausible or asking for unnecessary sympathy but undoubtedly he has reason to fear the foot.

I think you mean �below� a bellow would be the sound he makes on the way down.

[Steven Silvey]

Who knew that fans were so perverted and sad?
That's a great imagination you have.
Oh man it looks like they're gonna do it like on the Discovery Channel...
I got a good chuckle from that one.
A few typos that I wanted to point out...

GUYS, the ceiling fan interrupted, do you think maybe we could discuss something other then our owner's sex lives?
The apostrophe should be after the "s" in owners.

For a moment they all quiet to consider what else they could talk about, only the steady rhythmic thumping of the head board, squeaking of the bed springs, and slanderous violation of the third commandment to break the silence.
You switched from past to present here.

I think that I saw two more, but don't know where they are.