David stepped on one of the balls of paper that was lying on the floor. The paper made a swishing sound. He looked down, took his feet off the paper and it slid itself from under his foot. There were several balls of paper on the floor, where David played “hit the wastebasket.” They were scattered everywhere.
Normally, David would not throw old articles, newspapers or notes in the trash, but this morning, he felt unproductive, and the paper on the floor was not as important as the project he was working on. His assignment was to write about “The Existence of a Door Knob.” “It has been one of those mornings,” David thought to himself.
The balls of papers were use to being held and read. They even like to be put aside on a table, maybe a counter from time to time, but to be thrown on the floor like it is covered in fleas is unforgiveable. It is bad enough when the trash can is full, the balls of paper will be put into a stuffy, stifling storage bin, where it spend days waiting for a recycling truck to haul it off. Then, it becomes another entity. The balls of paper are beside themselves.
David got another cup of coffee and decided to try it again with his project. Before he sat down at the computer, he glanced across the room, and the balls of paper had transformed into a shape of a human eye. It was blue as shimmering steel. He looked at the form slightly, felt troubled and went back to work. It was as if the eye was stalking him.
David was typing away at his computer when he heard a noise, he turned to see what it was and the balls of paper changed themselves into a message. They lay across the soft brown carpet whispering and moving about, stirring, and shifting to make sure they were heard. The balls of paper tried to yell however, it all came out as a murmur. “You will be sorry.”
David bat his eyes in disbelief.”This can’t be real; I must be tired, maybe I need to rest from the computer.” David thought to himself. He continued to do his work, shaking his head in doubt. After a while, David went to his room for a well-deserved nap. Then, he awake out of his sleep to something weighing down on his arm; it felt fleshy, and cold like chicken feet.
The balls of paper transformed into an enormous, grayest slinky, slimy, worm. When David realize what it was, he jumped out of the bed in dismay, and ran toward the bathroom, his heart pounding loudly, and his legs seem to be getting heavier and heavier. David tripped on a rug and his breathing ceased.
The balls of paper are overcome with joy, about David’s demise. “Victory, victory is mind,” said the balls of paper. They rolled themselves across the floor, and one by one jump upon the huge desk and unballed. There they lay, all stretch out now and forever more.
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