Grand Tour

One day he realized that the remote control had sent almost all of its time since its arrival in the apartment in the living room. It occurred to him when he absent-mindedly carried it into the kitchen one day, and made a special trip to put it back.

Where had it been? Obviously in the entryway, the day it arrived, although it might have been in a box and not seen it very well. He couldn't remember. And one time he recalled accidentally carrying it into the library/computer room, so it had seen that, and the hallway leading there.

He stood up, resolved to right this inequity. "Hi there!" he said as he walked into the living room and picked it up. "I never gave you the grand tour when you arrived, but I figure you've been in residence here long enough to deserve it."

The remote-control said nothing, and he felt momentarily foolish. But then, what had he expected it to say? Maybe he should be more worried if inanimate objects did start to talk.

"This is the kitchen; you saw that not long ago," he said. "This is the entryway, over here. Did you see that on the way in? Only briefly, but not since? Over there is the storage room. Want to see that? Well, I suppose the box that you came in is there...hmmm, I don't see it. Too many layers of debris on top."

Next was the bathroom. "There's the sink, and the bathtub. And that's the toilet--see?" He held it over the bowl, then pulled it back. "No, I didn't mean to scare you. I wasn't going to drop you, honest. That, the computer room, you've already seen. The linen closet--not much to see in there. And the bedroom! Well, it's a bit of a mess, but what the heck."

He felt somehow better, and chatted with it briefly before returning it to its place of repose in the living room.

That night, though, it occurred to him that maybe that had been a bad idea. What if the rest of his appliances got jealous and wanted to see the rest of the apartment too? What if they decided to take the remote hostage, or even kill it out of spite?

"No, you just worry too much," he muttered and dropped off to sleep.

Back to my talk.bizarre page...

The Den of Ubiquity/ Aaron V. Humphrey / alfvaen@gmail.com