Prompt: A story told from an unusual point of view
From: cjnwriter
A/N: I think this might not have worked out as well as I hoped- just sounds a bit strange. But I hope you enjoy reading anyway! 😊
...
Born in haste, borne in reluctance.
No, I am not some sob story about some London orphan, before you ask. My father was a handmade Jezail bullet; my mother is a pale, fleshy shoulder.
I am pink, I am loud, and I have no name to go by. I am merely there because I was not asked to be.
I whine and protest to rainy days- both at home and further afield. When I feel tremendous strain, I ache. Cold air sends me flying into spastic fits.
Every night, I feel fingers graze me with the resentment only my presence can incur; yet, however, I have yet to hear one word of complaint about my existence.
However, I know that if it had not been for my very birth, the man who bears me on his left shoulder would be an incomplete man.
He would not have Sherlock Holmes for his beloved companion.