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A short story revolving around the theme of DREAMS. |
Iāve been here for several weeks now. Itās just not as exciting as it used to be. The first few days I was the fresh new choice, the one everyone picked up to inspect thoroughly. But then, as the days went on and gradually morphed into weeks, I became ostracized. Thatās the case, Iām sure of it; for I keep getting shoved to the back of the shelf each time I am touched. Others were much more fortunate than I, for they arrived and departed the same week, or day, some even within the same few hours of their arrival! At this point in time, I am rather infuriated. So many hands tossing me around, then shoving me back beneath my peers. Getting placed upon numerous human scalps. Some of them rather nice and well groomed, yet others atrocious; youād swear they had never even touched an ounce of shampoo! All this commotion was pretty much during my first few days at the shop. Like I mentioned previously, itās been a dull life for me since my first week here. I suppose people are looking more for something that calls out their name; their style; their sense of adventure. No one wants to take me home; Iām just a raggedy old straw hat. Although my kind has been worn consistently in the summertime and in European countries, as well as Asia, for many centuries, I have yet to be seriously considered for a customerās purchase. I was specially designed to protect a personās head from the sun and against heatstroke. Older people want to look more āin styleā so they arenāt interested in me. Little kids think of me as more of a āplaytimeā hat, or something that should strictly be worn by farmers or the infamous Mr. Dressup. And teenagers these days, well many of them try to be all āgangstaā and wear a ridiculously large hat with an extended straight peek atop a bandanna. But Iām just an unwanted straw hat! Perhaps my life would be more interesting if I were one of those odd cone-shaped hats topped with a tiny propeller, worn mostly by clowns and nerds! Then I would have the opportunity to share the confidentiality of knowing how to properly cram several beings into a tiny car, or maybe even the trick behind stuffing so many pens into one shirt pocket! How fascinating would that be? Quite the adventure I think, for Iād get to hear laughter wherever Iād go. And there isnāt a greater joy in life than hearing laughter, especially that of a child! Chances are, no matter who Iād be worn by, thereād be a group of people around ready to laugh hysterically. That is always enjoyable (for them, that is!), but the only low point I can think of, would be that Iād be the cause of having someone being made fun of. Then I would just be considered a bully! Thatās no fun, well sometimes it is, but I wouldnāt be doing it on purpose, so Iād feel slightly awful about it. Iād quickly develop a rather guilty conscience! How awesome would it be to arrive at a train station as the conductor sounds the boisterous horn, and tips his hat to the fellow passers-by? Not only would they be looking at his winking eye, but theyād see me, navy-blue, white stripes and all, resting on his shimmering gray hair! Everyone would know his position and wouldnāt be shy to show him respect because of me. I would be his indication of authority and seniority on the railways. And, at the end of a long day, the engineer would take me off of his paper-thin hair and delicately place me upon my very own brass hook. The only disappointment, however, would be the unfortunate fact that he would be the owner of a rather large dog. The type of dog that would always be hungry, and would figure out a way to jump and knock me off of my hook so he could morph me into a new-age chew toy any chance heād get. So maybe this wouldnāt exactly be the ideal situation. Perhaps I am just better off here at the shop for the moment. If only I had entered this world as a type of hat more people would be interested in wearing. A style that would never die out, and would be around for generations upon generations. All I really want is to have a loving home; someone to care for me; my very own family; and above all my very own hook to hang on. I canāt wait to leave this shelf temporarily inhabited by other stinky rejected hats and inhabit my very own hook, high above the floor where no dog can chew on my loose ends! Each style of hat I dream about has its highs and lows. I suppose everyoneās life will at one point or another. Perhaps I am now experiencing my ālowā and with the help of āprocess of eliminationā, seeing as I have yet to have a major āhighā in my life, something good should be happening to me in the near future. Iāve decided that itās great to dream about how oneās life could be, or could have been (everyone does it!), but I believe that I was placed in this situation for a specific reason, itās presently undetermined, but hopefully someday (preferably in the near future) Iāll figure it out. Instead of dreaming about the future, perhaps Iāll start concentrating on my life right now: taking it easy one day at a time! And just as that last thought struck my mind, a little boy dressed in denim overalls, carrying a toy tractor, began extending an arm in my direction. So there is hope after all! Or at least thatās what I thought until I saw him reaching for a package of bubble gum on the shelf below. If only it was destined for my brim! If only⦠|