Not really practical. I sit here on the edge, of course you can see that. They say I'm just an object, but no moreso than you're idea that created me or wanted to buy me. Even just recognizes me, isn't that the object in your head, doesn't that come first? I am a comforter to those who see me, and a friend to those who take me in when they bathe. The little boy takes me in with him and I float in the water, but it only occupies the space inside the edge. He gets out and leaves. I live a lonely life. When the woman comes in to bathe she sometimes puts me in a drawer. Then I'm back out here. Sit. Mirror over there. Wallpaper. The smell of it I think destroys my thoughts. This is a small little world, my little kingdom, though nothing else here. I sit motionless. When no one's around I fall off the edge and after recovering my balance I crawl back up. But you knew that.
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