Topic Response: Worst Failure
Describe your worst failure.
The chair.
Only answer - the chair.
I got it in my head that I would make a chair for Ma. Not just any old chair, mind. A perfect chair. She’d get achy knees sometimes, not that she’d mention it. You could just tell by the way she held herself, standing at the kitchen sink. The way she sat down a little more slowly.
That’s the way it happens, isn’t it?
Your body starts to have these little aches. Things move slower. And one day - one day, you realize that you’ve grown up. And that your parents are growing old.
Not feeble, mind. Not Ma. She was all oak and iron. Blood.
Brimstone.
Just - older.
Anyway, I decided I’d make her a chair. Just like one of those in the catalogue at the general store. The one you could order from if you wanted something they didn’t have themselves.
Where everything was - not just for sitting on, or for putting your arms on or anything like that. But where every part, everything that made up that chair - was to be looked at. Just because it was beautiful.
Now, I knew Ma was not happy about frivolity and beauty without a cause, well, that’s just that. But I figured - I guess I wanted it to show how much I loved her. For her being my mother and birthing me and feeding me and teaching me about God and sin.
Maybe I just wanted her to think I was clever.
Maybe I wanted her to smile at me.
Whatever the reason I went ahead and made that chair.
It was -
Perfect.
The armrests were like swans. Not that I made them to look like swans, but the way they curved made me think of cool, crisp mornings down by the lake, and the swans gliding on it. Like they weren’t swimming at all. No effort. Just - grace.
I’d carved a travelling vine all over the back. Every leaf. Every tendril. Down the legs too.
It was just the right height. On the hard side when it came to the seat, but Ma wouldn’t have liked a soft chair. Soft chairs invite laziness.
The thing was, I made that as a gift. But I made it because I wanted something. So I stopped thinking about what Ma wanted and instead I gave her what I thought she’d want. So she’d give me whatever it was I was hoping for.
You shouldn’t do that. If you give, you shouldn’t think of yourself. You should just - give.
She didn’t burn it.
She never used it either.
Count: 430
Muse: Clay
Fandom: Misc. Movies - Passion of Darkly Noon
The chair.
Only answer - the chair.
I got it in my head that I would make a chair for Ma. Not just any old chair, mind. A perfect chair. She’d get achy knees sometimes, not that she’d mention it. You could just tell by the way she held herself, standing at the kitchen sink. The way she sat down a little more slowly.
That’s the way it happens, isn’t it?
Your body starts to have these little aches. Things move slower. And one day - one day, you realize that you’ve grown up. And that your parents are growing old.
Not feeble, mind. Not Ma. She was all oak and iron. Blood.
Brimstone.
Just - older.
Anyway, I decided I’d make her a chair. Just like one of those in the catalogue at the general store. The one you could order from if you wanted something they didn’t have themselves.
Where everything was - not just for sitting on, or for putting your arms on or anything like that. But where every part, everything that made up that chair - was to be looked at. Just because it was beautiful.
Now, I knew Ma was not happy about frivolity and beauty without a cause, well, that’s just that. But I figured - I guess I wanted it to show how much I loved her. For her being my mother and birthing me and feeding me and teaching me about God and sin.
Maybe I just wanted her to think I was clever.
Maybe I wanted her to smile at me.
Whatever the reason I went ahead and made that chair.
It was -
Perfect.
The armrests were like swans. Not that I made them to look like swans, but the way they curved made me think of cool, crisp mornings down by the lake, and the swans gliding on it. Like they weren’t swimming at all. No effort. Just - grace.
I’d carved a travelling vine all over the back. Every leaf. Every tendril. Down the legs too.
It was just the right height. On the hard side when it came to the seat, but Ma wouldn’t have liked a soft chair. Soft chairs invite laziness.
The thing was, I made that as a gift. But I made it because I wanted something. So I stopped thinking about what Ma wanted and instead I gave her what I thought she’d want. So she’d give me whatever it was I was hoping for.
You shouldn’t do that. If you give, you shouldn’t think of yourself. You should just - give.
She didn’t burn it.
She never used it either.
Count: 430
Muse: Clay
Fandom: Misc. Movies - Passion of Darkly Noon