Garret wasn’t what Susan expected. It is obvious. Now it is obvious. And his name. It sounds like ferret. Why would Susan, as I know her, ever look twice at that guy, let alone meet him. What do I know. I am just a, what do you call it. I don’t even know what to call myself. I am a rubber. That kind of rubber. Even though I am a certain type of contraceptive, I don’t have a name. Nobody would dream of giving me a name. There is nothing original about me. I am just one of many of a kind.
I just don’t think it’s fair. I didn’t choose this. This is my peak, crammed between two persons’ fleshy intimate parts. It’s not glamorous. Where will I end up? In the ocean perhaps. I would like that. Oh, how I long for the ocean. How I long for this to be over with. I think I can make it to the ocean. I am strong. My elasticity knows no boundaries. I am still young, fresh, newly fabricated and packaged. I travelled through continents to get here. Will my journey soon come to an end, or will I continue, just floating around. Will I be flushed down a drain.
A condom, if not purposefully destroyed, has a life expectancy of 10 000 years. I just made that up. But I’m sure I will be around long after humans have left this planet. I am just rambling now. I am just a rubber. What do I know.
Come to think of it I don’t have an opinion on anything. I’m just feeling funny today. My mind’s going off in all sorts of directions. It’s just the lying in the wrapper, the darkness in there, the structured rolled up existence, the unused lube, and then that loud ripping apart of my resting place and the light flowing in. The stretching and the scent. I just want to be taken care of.
Who is talking through my voice. Who’s consciousness is this. I need to take charge. I am talking through the voice of a … I lost myself there for a moment. Who is this guy? I thought the conversation was all right. Now he feels like such a stranger. Who the hell am I fucking? I must have drifted off again.
I gotta do what I gotta do. Gonna do me now. Gonna be the phantom. Just gotta believe it. Gotta get in the flow, lose it to the music, can’t stop the feeling, can’t stop the Garthalizer. Yeah, you know she likes it. Keep it positive man. Don’t fail on me now. Keep that voice in my head, make it louder, tune out the noise. Why am I not enjoying it. Stop thinking Garret. Stop it. Don’t go there. Do your thing. Chicks dig it. You’re a king. Show her what you’ve got. Freakin’ condom. Gotta give it all you got. No turning back. Keep at it. Almost there. Why does it feel like I’m on the subway not getting anywhere. Why don’t i feel hot right now. I’m losing it. Focus. Kill that thought.
I still can’t believe someone like her would want me. What are these thoughts. Where are they coming from. It’s just you. It’s the bottom of yourself talking. Let me out, Garret. No, never. Get back down there and let me do my thing. What is your thing man. What are you talking about. You don’t know who you are. You are just doing what people tell you, what you read somewhere by some random dude on the Internet you know nothing about. From whom are you taking advice. This is going nowhere. Just roll off her. Look at her, look at that blank face. She wants to leave and it’s your fault. Screw this, time out, I’m rolling off her.
“I don’t know. I feel kind of … weird.”
What am i doing. What do I say now. I’ve never done this before. What is happening. I have to get out of this room, I can’t take this. Just take me away from here. Make it stop.
Written for YeahWrites weekly prompt #388.
First prompt is an opening sentence: “Garrett wasn’t what Susan expected.”
Second prompt is the Narrator’s Point of View: An sarcastic inanimate object