The porch hung off the side of the building like a giant Stone Troll, the iron railing crowning its flat head. It held perfectly still. Stone Trolls are capable of incredible feats of stillness, and are often mistaken for badly-sculpted statues if stumbled upon by the unwary. The porch could pretend, and could certainly hold just as still and be just as quiet.
Not far away crouched an electrical box for the Transit System. It was on to the porch's game, and was watching it intently. It was like a staring contest, if both contestants were eyeless, square, and made of some nonporous material. The electrical box had been painted a greenish aqua color, back when that particular shade was popular among utility boxes. Now the box looked dated and rusty, but he was well on top of his game. Not one flicker or fidget from the porch would escape his notice.
Unknown to both, the porch railing had ideas of its own. Too long had it perched on the cement square of the porch. Too long had it gone unrecognized, scoffed at for its utilitarian design and chipped, rusting paint. It would act soon, very soon - the only thing it waited for was a hapless Two Leg to come by and lean on it, once again without a "Please" or "By your leave", or even a "Thank you very much, you well-constructed and particularly handsome railing". Oh yes. Its time to fly would soon come. But for now it would wait, biding its time.
No comments:
Post a Comment