Bulb

This is a short story (only a page) that I hope some of you will appreciate. What can I say other than I was influenced by the season.

Bulb

My eyes are closed as I contemplate my existence. Why was I created, to simply be or was there a purpose? I spend my days in silence with nothing but my thoughts and the gentle changes of light as it dances from one dust particle to another. I find peace in the gentle swirls created by mice as they run across the attic floor. How infinitely simple is my life.

Sometimes I cry out inside myself begging the universe to reach out and take me away from this prison that is my body. How terrible it is to be cursed to forever sit and watch the dawn knowing that it will rise again and everything will be the same. Those days when my thoughts turn in that direction are the days I wish I could forget. I ache with every part of my being to deny that such things ever pass through my mind. My only solace is the knowledge that such thoughts never passed through my lips, marking my doom with the finality of the spoken word.

I would rather my existence be known as a joyful one, that I lived out my days proudly, never wavering in the task that was set before me. I remember the first moments when I felt the brush of a smooth finger run across my surface, the giggles of delight seeming to wrap around me lifting me up bringing me to a near state of ecstasy. This was my Nirvana, the place I belonged. Surrounded by joy and light, swaying back and forth as though to a tune of a lullaby.

That is what I remember of the beginning, the time before the days of longing and sorrow. It seemed to happen so abruptly, one moment I was nestled in the warm embrace of what I called home and the next it was dark and silent, no more lullaby, no more laughter. But I kept the faith. I took it in stride.

The first few days, or what I thought were days, it felt like a little vacation. My surroundings were new and whenever I would begin to feel the tug of homesickness I would comfort myself with the knowledge I would return to my home in the green. But as time wore on, the novelty wore off and my thoughts no longer began to drift towards home. The place that I knew became little but a dream, a false memory of a place I never knew. It became hard to remember the freshness of needles, the comfort of red, the gentle breezes that would nudge me into the green of my home. I forgot the feeling of closeness of others and to be honest I forgot my purpose.

You see I've been here an awfully long time, so long I can't count the days. So I sit here with my eyes closed dreaming and thinking. Which is worse, do you think: to cling to the dream or accept the reality? I've made peace with my place in this world I think. I should be content to just watch the dust and be grateful of the peace and the silence. But a part of me feels like there's something more, a part of me longs for things to be different. Is that silly? Am I crazy? My purpose in life is to sit here and watch. Do nothing but watch. Just sit here and watch. So I close my eyes and contemplate my existence. I am who I am, but who am I?

…..A few days later

There's a shift in the room as the ground begins to vibrate, dust flicking around the room as though in a race to the finish. The room seems to spin as I shut my eyes tightly. This can't be the end. It can't. My stomach drops as I move from my spot, the spot I've never left. I peek out one eye, to see how it ends and upon reflection I might have let out a squeal. I'm moving I'm moving. Hooray Hurray. But then my heart races and I suddenly get nervous. Oh no I can't leave my spot. Suddenly I think in a way I never considered, who will do the watching if I am gone? Who will watch the dust-mice race against the dawn. It was in that moment that I realized I was happy, I was happy doing my job. The face of the unknown is too much and I shut my eyes in fear. But then I hear the giggling and I become complete.

Author's Note

This idea just came into my head and I had to write it down. I hope you like it:) I edited it now I hope it is better.

Reviews

[Callum]

Honestly, I think you have something here.
You have a beautiful start and a great ending, on a high note.

I think you need to break this story up, section it in paragraphs... and edit, edit, edit...
Overall, well done!

[ValyrieKiennan]

I think you have some interesting ideas here, but I do have a few recommendations! First, your paragraphs are too long to be easily digestible. Your readers will be overwhelmed by the wall of text that they see! As well, I would recommend reading your work aloud; you will catch grammatical errors much easier, and you will naturally stumble on sentences that are awkwardly structured.

Keep on with the great work!