A day in the life of a tricycle

By Frostbite

Yes that's right, you read the title correctly. This is the story of a tricycle, or at least part of the story of a tricycle. A subject not often examined, which actually is discrimination against all tricycle kind. In this story I try to delve deep into the tricycle psyche, and understand it's true nature. It is a story about love, life, and learning to accept yourself for who you are.

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The tricycle sat there. Doing nothing. All alone. Doing absolutely nothing.

Sounds boring doesn't it? Well it probably was. The only thing that kept the tricycle from dying slowly but agonizingly of boredom was the fact that it was an inanimate object, and therefore unaware of it's surroundings, or even the fact that it was supposed to be bored. It could not experience emotions, such as boredom or anything of the like. And even if it could, being an inanimate object, it wouldn't be able to do anything about it, such as tell us, or attempt escape. And this is why we will never truly know the depths of suffering of a tricycle.

And so as it sat there, doing nothing, knowing nothing, feeling nothing, and a whole lot of general nothingness, there arose a great clatter from somewhere in the same area as the tricycle. The source of the noise made it's appearance, announcing to the world that it existed by screaming loudly at the top of it's very powerful lungs, and flapping it's arms dramatically.

The tricycle took no notice.

The source of noise scampered about the yard, the environment the tricycle was currently occupying (though it was unaware of even this fact). The source of noise, a purple haired boy, was apparently looking for a place to hide, from some untold terror. He had a desperate gleam in his eyes, and a frightened look on his face, which made clear his situation.

In his search he paid no attention to the tricycle, which suited the tricycle just fine, as it was paying no attention to the boy.

Finally the boy found a suitable spot, underneath a large threatening looking vehicle, which he hoisted above his head in order to get under it. This feat of strength, especially from such a young child, would have amazed anyone who had seen it. Except for the tricycle. The tricycle took no notice.

Suddenly there erupted another noisemaker from where the first had come, and it stormed into the yard, burning with fury.

"Brat! Get out here now!!" It bellowed, outraged. But nothing happened.

The man growled, for it was a man, a black haired man, who had caused so much noise. He paced back and forth impatiently, his frustration growing and the suddenly he threw his arms up in the air and exclaim "ah hell, forget it" And stormed off towards a dome shaped building muttering something about training, brats, and a woman who's fault it was.

And still the tricycle took no notice.

When the man was out of sigh, the large threatening vehicle gave a sigh of relief, or rather, the boy beneath it did, causing said vehicle to shudder slightly. The large vehicle found itself hoisted into the air by the boy, who deposited it rather roughly on the ground beside him, and darted back towards the house from which he had originally come. All that excitement had left him feeling hungry, and he hoped that his grandmother might be able to solve this problem.

And so once again the tricycle found itself alone, not that it minded, for it didn't even take notice of that. Such was the life of the tricycle, and such it would probably continue to be for a long time to come until, one day when it's existence will end, abruptly, but that, one might assume, will probably go unnoticed as well.

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Hey guys, I wrote this little story late one night and quite liked it, but I think it's too small to post as a story so I just put it here. Sorry to get anyone's hopes up, but review and I'll get chapter 3 up real soon, I've almost finished it! And if you like this little story, say so and maybe I'll take it out here and post it separately, make room for chapter 3.

Now review! Please…