I like to read this in my old timey King Arther voice but the choice it really up to you.
It had been known to me for some time that something had to be done. I knew the answer and where to find it, but I swore I would never go back to that place not after the last time. But when certain doom approaches a man has to step up and do something or be left by the wayside. I knew what must be done, I would have to buy a new bookshelf. The old one was a rotting skeleton, a mere ghost of it's former glory. As all things it's time had passed and I knew the strain of a long life had taken it's toll. Books, the words of the dead lay scattered at it's feet there was no place for them in the dusty catacombs of the too full shelves. But I wanted to hold on as long as I could, I wanted to believe that the old guy had some life left in him, but I was wrong. He like so many others would have to be replaced. He knew it, I knew it, it was time. I would have to go to Ikea. The thought sent thrills of dread down my spine the journey there was a death march like passing over into a crueler world. It was almost dark, the worst time to face the beast but it could not be helped. (After all I had work in the morning.) I pulled into the parking lot it was almost full not a good sign. I made my way cautiously to the doorway it greeted me as an old friend mockingly allowing me entrance. It knew I would be back, it always knew. The crowd was a milling mass of mindless drones. They sang the song of the damned, the song of deals, and cubbyholes, of knickknacks, and throw pillows. It was already to late for them. I tried to hurry but the smell of rancid meatballs and the draining lights soon tired me. I tried to find the fastest path but it was a labyrinth designed to trap and confuse. I spent hours looking trying to keep my mind clear my goal in focus but it was getting harder. The great beast was wearing on me. But then I saw it ahead a sign post in that purgatory of good sense it read, "bookshelves ahead." This was it my journey would finally be over! But as I approached I knew the beast had bested me again. There where to many so many colors and styles some appealing some revolting but all in affordable prices. I had to make my choice and soon least I be stuck here forever. I hastened to the cause looking at options and sturdiness. It had to be the right one else all this would be for nothing. Then I saw it tucked away in the corner hiding from plain sight the perfect bookshelf! My journey was over I had defeated the beast at last my books the words of the dead could rest at ease. But not after standing in the checkout line for another hour and buying two pillows and storage box. Seriously that store is a freaking maze and I hate it.
1 comment:
How do you turn a trip to Ikea into poetry. Few could do it. Just don't let my sis-in-law read your blog. She loves the place.
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