Really, it had been days. If he didn't want to fucking buy him, he should've left him there.
He was cool. He could've gotten out of that bloody pricetag himself.
Yet he couldn't help feeling quite abandoned when he was shoved on a shelve above some wooly jumpers and a leather jacket he knew he'd look awesome with.
Now it was just dark. In the back he could faintly see a pair of shoes he couldn't even understand, because why would you buy that? and some boxes he could feel nothing but contempt towards.
He bet that fucking lamp had had a longer and better life than he did so far.
Really, it had been months.
He tried moving his legs, but they'd grown stiff and he felt he was unable to.
A thin layer of dust glossed his glasses.
The door had been opened several times. To grab stupid, cream-coloured muppetskins or even a fucking hat.
Every time they got back, they'd look so sated. So satisfied.
On a particularly colourful occasion, there'd been a man here. A different man. A stranger. Right underneath him.
He didn't quite understand, and neither did the shoes. But his master seemed to like him quite a lot.
His master must not like him. He never coated him in saliva.
Fuck. It had been years. Fucking what? How did this happen?
The jumpers had been joined by a long coat, the hat had been joined by an even stranger one.
He was still just there, being dusty. Not glamorous at all, if you ask him. If he had a face, he surely would have sighed.
He'd lost all his shine, really. He'd gone black. He was certain of it. He didn't know how; he didn't know when.
He knew he did kind of like it though.
Then the doors opened. His owner looked in. Grabbed the jacket and the jumper. Then waited.
You see, after years of waiting, one began to lose hope. And when the fingers stretched out towards the shelve, he really didn't pay any attention. Was not looking at the short nails as he had all those times before.
But when the fingers closed around one of his legs, he couldn't keep from shuddering.
His owner whiped the dust off his eyes, and suddenly, he could see.
His legs were being bent, and suddenly, he could move.
And then he was resting on the bridge of a nose, and walking outside and being looked at, and he was alive.
And it was glorious.