Standing against a cold darkened corner, he stood stalk still looking across the garage where a tornado of human destruction was all that remained. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a flashback from all of those chemicals used every time he got out.
He knew better than to submerge him self in deep with hazardous chemicals. But he was powerless against the enchanting bouquet that whispered promises of good times. Overuse had to be catching up with him now, that was the only logical explanation.
How he wished it were true, but traveling deep down through his hollow interior to his worn-out handle, he knew the truth. He wished to erase the pictures now locked in his head that unfolded before his eyes that day. Incredibly cruel humans infiltrated their space and inflicted so much pain as they cleared the way. Items that were once precious treasures were broken, beaten, and then sorted in to various recycling bins. He didn’t think it could get any worse, and then the bins were rolled out and left on the cold curb, where destruction and death was eminent in the morning dawn. Brooding in the corner, trying desperately to push the carnage that invaded his mind away, he contemplated the risks he was about to take and if there was anything left to save.