So I've decided to start working on my writing again...

And since I seem to be suffering from writers block lately I've signed up with a couple of writing prompt sites.

Today's Assignment: Close your eyes. Think of an object in the room. Focus on that object after about three minutes, without looking at the object, write about the object.

Behind The Glass

She keeps me behind glass, safe, waiting for a special occasion that never seems to come. From her grandfather to her grandmother to her I have been handed down and yet I have spent most of my life trapped behind the glass. A service for 20, made for entertaining, made to be the centerpiece when family and friends gather, instead I gather dust. When does being cherished become being useless? When does being valuable become being wasted? I do not know, but I feel useless and wasted.

Creamy white with a band of silver around my edges, pink and yellow roses scattered along my borders, I was made to be pleasing to the eye. Has my beauty rendered me somehow untouchable? I am lonely. How gladly would I take the risk of being chipped or broken as long as it meant I would be serving the purpose for which I was made. Yet it seems I am destined to be kept "safe". Cloistered in this accursed china hutch wasting away never achieving the purpose for which I was created.

We are both being cheated. I of my purpose. She of the joy that I could bring her if she would let me. If she were brave enough to risk. Perhaps someday, before I am passed on to her daughter, she will understand that her family is enough of a special occasion to bring me to the table. That she is saving me for the wrong people. That the best, her best and my best, belongs to those she loves the most. Maybe then, when she has become what she is intended to be, she will rescue me from this prison of glass and let me be what I am intended to be. How I long for the day.