Rachel- you asked for:
“A Christmas tree who knows it’s his last day before being shoved in a box and left for a year.”
So here ya go!
When you’re stuck in a dark garage for 50 weeks a year you tend to question your existence more than most.
Years ago I was a display tree. I was set up for months in a large metropolitan department store. Families looked at me with wonder. I thought I was hot stuff and destined for great things.
With a few days before Christmas (my big day) I was sold to a dysfunctional middle class family at half price because of minor damages. In the car on the way home I spotted great leafy statues, I was just a mere imitation of these natural wonders. They were independent and grew where they wanted. I was contained in a plastic bag (the shop had lost my box) and made by a machine.
When I got home I was pampered for a few days. But soon enough I was shoved into the dark garage and ignored. I was very hurt and outraged. My existence seemed so pointless. I was just a collection of convenient green plastic bits to display each year in order to fit in with a tradition that is completely misinterpreted and now based on consumerism.
But this Christmas as I am being packed away, I’ve realised something. I still have my thoughts. This year I had developed entire philosophies in the dark, and even made friends with the broken toaster next to me. We’d argued about the intricacies of death and life for objects like us. Perhaps it wasn’t such a pointless existence after all.
freyawrightbrough 