Frank lives indoors. All day, every day. He’s never felt a sidewalk, never watched loafers, sneakers, spike heels, flip-flops trudge by. Never smelled a garbage strike, never sweltered and steamed under an August sun, never drowned in 3 feet of black-capped snow. But he’s dreamed of it all his life. He thinks he belongs out there with the other fire plugs.
Frank doesn’t know he’s only a waste pipe, destined to spend his eternity standing in the corner of a room, tamping down the loneliness with a dream.
This is part of my series called The Secret Life of Fire Plugs
Ha! I've been loving this series since you started doing it. It's a pleasure to see a new one. This one is the funniest and the most melancholy. Poor Frank! It isn't easy being an indoor waste pipe. He doesn't have it so bad though. No dogs around inside to "mark" him.
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