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This week, we present responses to the challenge, Alone. What happens at your house when no one is home? What’s the first thing the inanimate objects do? Hold a party time? Hop into the hot tub? Play tricks on the absent humans? Write a whimsical tale.
By Lana Wood
Age 16, Newbury, Vt.
When I came home from school,
I found myself in shock.
The beds had all gathered by the pool,
and the couches stood ‘round the grandfather clock.
There was confetti everywhere,
and food all strewn about.
There were armoires running here and there
until they all passed out.
The toaster almost jumped in the tub,
but the other appliances hollered “Stop!”
There were forks and knives in every shrub
with napkins dancing on top.
It was difficult not to do a double take
as I felt a shiver up my bones —
but I then found myself lying awake,
in my bedroom, all alone.
By Eloise Van Meter
Age 16, Fairlee
We wait like teenagers for our owners’ car to leave the driveway. All day has been spent reading their notes back in my head, turning their nonsense words into the lyrics of my song, catching their absent-minded humming in my cracks. Sometimes I find Esperanza looking at me with pity, thinking, That wall must be lonely, all of its art being stripped from it …
The humans wonder if inanimate objects get lonely. We wear emotionless expressions. They think we are simple its, painted only to please their own eyes. However, we are complicated beings – we are punctured by tacks; we are coated over with soft ivories only to suddenly be changed to harsh blues; we are told by our owners what we should look like and have little choice in our appearance.
So as our owners’ car leaves the driveway, we sigh in relief to be rid of the expectations imposed upon us, and sing the songs of their sorrows.
By Tobin Durham
Age 14, Corinth
A house (also known as a home) is, in a way, like a dog. It cares about you, but if you do not care for it, it can easily turn on you. Each home has a personality, too, so there are angry homes, sad homes, and happy homes. Homes come in all shapes and sizes – some homes are tall and skinny, some are fat and short. There are homes that are built high in the air, and homes built far underground. The one thing that all homes have in common is that they care about the people that live in them.
Let me tell you about my home. My house is very old. In fact, it is 166 years old. Being such an old home, it has a long history. When it was first built in 1853, it was a church. As a church it was happy; it was the center of the community and made many people’s lives better.
When the Civil War began, everyone left town to fight and did not come back. The church was abandoned by the early 1900s. An abandoned house is like a depressed person in that it feels like it has no purpose in life. In most cases, the house falls apart.
After 40-odd years, the farmer down the road bought the house and turned it into a barn. As a barn it was no longer depressed, but still grumpy — it was in use but still had no one who loved it.
In the early 1980s, the barn was bought by a French couple. They turned it into a house and lived there until 1992. During this time, the house was very happy. It was cared about and had people living in it. In 1992, when the French couple moved back to France, the house was devastated. It slipped back into a depression and started to fall apart, despite being rented out.
In 2006, my family bought the house. This was the best thing that ever happened to it. There were people living in it long-term and kids playing in its yard. It was the happiest it had been since being a church over a 100 years ago.
By Kyle Emerson
Age 17, Bradford, Vt.
The door closes; the teenager is gone.
The truck disappears in a cloud of dust.
“Hooray!” scream the chairs.
“Party!” exclaims the teddy bear.
“I’ll play the tunes!” says the record player.
Tiffany’s voice echoes through the house:
“I think we’re alone now!
There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”
The lamps flicker with excitement
and the pictures come to life.
Blankets and chairs make forts
as Mr. Fridge falls over, again.
Everyone is having fun —
until they spot the teenager at the door,
looking shocked.
Everyone stops and stares.
The record scratches.
Teddy bear approaches,
and there is silence, until he asks …
“Want to party with us?”
“Sure!”