A thread

Hanging by a thread, limp and cold.

The stool is in the kitchen, a thread in the closet.

A door is shut, the TV is off.

Outside is silent other then the soft sound of rumbling.

The sky is clear.

Kids are in class.

The teacher is writing up the homework.

A bell rings.

Cheerful glee is heard and footsteps loudly exiting

A voice is heard still in the classroom, sighing in desperation.

The steps scramble across concrete towards a lowly rumbling bus.

The sky starts to rumble as drizzles hit the roof.

Light stepping  comes off of the bus and towards the home.

A door is opened hesitantly.

Everything is empty and quiet.

The door is quietly shut, the TV turns on.

A stool slowly slides across hard wood.

There is silence other then the slow opening of a closet.

The thread is removed and gently tied to the fan.

A breath is released, a slow step is taken onto the stool.

A stool being knocked over is cover up by the sounds of a TV.

Hanging by a thread, limp and cold.