Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Daily Sketches. #12 Doorknob

Write about a door knob. Any door knob – maybe it’s in your room, maybe in a fancy concert hall, or in an antique shop. Is it made of glass, metal, ceramic? What color is it? Is it attached to a door that you are afraid to open, curious to open, eager to open, or are you indifferent? If you never paid any attention to door knobs, write about how stupid it is to even think of door knobs. If nothing comes to mind, invent!

“Hello,” I say and shake your ragged hand.
All right, all right, maybe “shake” is not the right word, maybe “squeeze” is more like it. Wait a minute, not squeeze either. Technically, I suppose, I turn it, but it does not sound well at all, so I’ll stick with “shake”.
“Hello,” you say, coughing and sneezing, and groaning like an old man.
“Thanks for letting me in,” I hurry in.
“You’re welcome, dear.”
“Thanks!” I hurry out.
“Don’t mention.”
Cough, cough. Achoo!
When grandpa was here, he took good care of you.
“He did, he did,” you say, creaking.
You’re probably about the same age as grandpa, aren’t you? And just like grandpa, you’re still not ready to retire and still want to do your job properly. No wonder he treated you with such a respect. You’re a good guy.
“I just do what’s right,” you say.
Cough, cough. Achoo!
How many couple’s privacy you protected over the years, being there as a faithful watchdog. I feel thankful on behalf of all of us.
“Don’t mention it,” you say humbly.
And what about those cats? So naughty! Sometimes both you and I aren’t fast enough, and they sneak in when they feel like it.
“We do the best we can,” you say.
Cough. Cough, cough.
I’ll try to help you. I’ll see what tools I need to keep you in a good shape.
“Well, don’t get too ambitious. Better shape, maybe. Not so much good shape,” you say.
I don’t want other guys here doing the job you do. It’s your lifetime job, and you’ve been doing it well.
“No problem.”
You feel like you’re losing your grip. But it’s just a moment, it’ll pass. I’ll fix you, I promise.
“I appreciate,” you say.
I’m bringing my tools – a screwdriver and such – to tighten your loose joints. I’m not especially experienced at it. But I try. Grandpa too has joint pains – he knows.
Cough, cough. Achoo!
Oh hello there! I did not think of you in that way before, but you’re also grandpa’s age, aren’t you?
“We’re in this together.”
You’re right! You are all connected. The doorknob to the door. The door to the wall. You’re all a part of one whole team, one organism that is our old house. I know, I know, I better say “vintage” – it’s more fashionable that way, more upbeat, funky even, more polite and more political correct. But at the core, you know, it means old.
“You, young folks,” you say smiling at my straightforwardness.

I am young compared to you. I am not as thoughtful, I don’t take as good care of you as you deserve. Grandpa did a better job, really. Let me talk to him. We need to get you guys in a better shape. What he’ll suggest, I wonder?

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  1. I love your sense of humor and warmth. Very intimate. Funny how our writing reveals the intimate relationship we have with the things in our lives ... door knobs, blankets, swimming pools. It's not just all "stuff" ... it's so much more.

  2. I agree with Justin. Suddenly stuff matters, but not just any stuff. It must be part of life. I am exploring minimalism, which means to me getting rid of stuff of clutter to focus on what matters most. How true about a door knob having a job, and how older generations took care of everything better. Not like my jiggling door knobs.

  3. How contemplation of our surroundings can yield goldfrom something as simple as a door knob.
    I love it! Xo Jazzy Jack

  4. I do not know why... but.. here it is... my two cents to your "writers challenge" #12 :)
    Sorry, you, know, English is not my native language. Please suggest changes, if you will...

    Doorknobs and Germaphobe.

    I'm not, per say, a freak or snob,
    And don't you say it's funny
    But touching any new doorknob
    I'm feeling quite uncanny.

    I wear gloves, bring spray and wipes,
    Wherever I am going,
    My life is full of cleans and swipes
    and can be quite annoying.

    I pray for science to progress
    To make door locks work touch-less
    This will reduce my fears and stress,
    But so far I'm cleaning mess
    And keep my doorknobs spotless.

    1. Slava, I love it! I'm so glad you participated, please join in any time you want. Your poems are fun, in both Russian and English!