They not only did it on the table but on me! Their naked sticky bodies oozing disgusting stuff as she straddled him; humped and left their revolting sex to seep into the very fabric of my being.

And what reward for my silence? Here I’m, relegated to this mote-filled dump, awaiting my fate.

Don’t they know there’re many more good years left in me? Look beneath the dull varnish; ignore my soiled fabric; and see the solidity – revel at the history of my pedigree.

“Hey, you!”

Who’s that?

“We did time in the Conference Room! They marked us for compost, and we’ll probably return as shipping palettes.”

I’m sorry.

“Sorry? What a relief! You from the Executive Suite? 


“We don’t know what secrets you hold, but we heard you’re destined for the furnace!”


Copyright @ Eric Alagan, 2014



    1. Hello Eva dear,

      What dark secrets – move aside gecko on the wall – held by ‘things’. If one could only capture the vibes contained within.


  1. The info and sticky stuff are not classified, they cover walls, floors, grass, any surface. Marks everywhere if only they could talk.

    A very refreshing viewpoint here.

  2. Ew! Funny, but… ew! Yes, I imagine there are secrets that need to be destroyed. As for me, if I ever have to visit an executive’s office, I’ll just stand, thank you 🙂

    1. Happy to have helped in starting your Friday well, Susan dear.

      Hope the boys – Orso and Charlie – are behaving 🙂

      Have a great weekend too,

  3. Eric, you do dark humour well. The life of furniture is indeed sordid and disturbing at times. The furnace might be a better option than being turned into shipping palettes.

    1. Coming from a past master of dark writings such as you – I take this as high compliment, David. Thank you.


      Most of the time, one sits stacked up and dried under the hot sun or in rat infested warehouses. The smell of raw seafood is hard to rid of. Stray dogs reckon a stack of palettes is their rightful toilet. Poked by forklift forks – that is not a pun nor is it fun. Burned by cigarettes, hammered with nails – have you ever been hammered with nails (?) – only to have the nails yanked out and hammered in again. And the power drills – man, worse than anything in a dentist’s chair.

      And then comes the real work. Life as a shipping palette can be back breaking. And heaven knows – better yet, make that – the loadmaster knows, what one has to bear next.

      And only to end up eaten by worms or terminates – and finally end up as firewood in some third world country.

      Gimme the furnace now, I tell you!

      Now that I got that outta my system – Psst! Wanna hear what the chairman and his PA had been up to? And here’s the juicy part – the PA is a guy-man-male of the macho sex! 😆

    1. LOL! Yes, furnaces can get a tad hot 🙂

      You’re right about leaving after the (re engineering) job is done and allowing matters to heal under new leadership. Put simply – bad cop, good cop.

      Enjoy your weekend, Ian.

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