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