Photo Credit: Couch, France, 1740-50, Accessed through ARTstor
By: Anonymous Contributor
Slam the door crashed behind him as he walked out, leaving behind a faint echo that reverberated through the cramped, but nearly empty studio apartment.
With a sigh of relief she sank down into the old couch and shut her eyes, replaying the events of the day. Slowly, a crooked, malicious smile appeared on her lips as she applauded her efforts in the conversation that just ensued.
You see, she had been trying to master the art of manipulation for the past five years, and after hours of endless fights and arguments, she realized that she had succeeded. This had been a tough test of her abilities, but she applied all of the knowledge and tricks that she had mastered and she had succeeded, and it felt good. No, it felt more than good—it felt magnificent.
Her eyes sprung open and she looked around the room as if in deep thought. Slowly, she lifted herself from the rustic couch, as it was not an easy couch to lift oneself out of. She stared longingly at the rips in the seams, and the stains that reminded her of the long years they had spent together. Spaghetti sauce, wine, and soda created its own pattern on the fabric that nearly covered the surface of the cushions.
Walking to the kitchen, she tied her long hair in ponytail and opened a drawer to grab a knife. She held it before her eyes as if inspecting it for any imperfections. She twisted it in her hands and then looked back toward the couch.
Heading for the homely thing, she held the knife high above her head. When she arrived at her destination she brought her hand down fast and hard into the upholstery. Repeatedly, she stabbed the knife in the cushions, the arms, the pillows and the back of the couch. Her eyes emitted a type fierce rage that would make you want to run away. She didn’t stop menacingly slicing the couch until the thing was nothing but scraps of stuffing and fabric and pieces of wood scattered about the room.
Just as she finished cleaning up the mess, her husband burst through the doors completely out of breath. He stared at his wife questioningly after he saw the empty spot where his beloved and precious couch once sat. Just as he was about to speak, three men burst through the door behind him carrying a new, lovely leather couch, and placed it down where the ugly old one used to sit.