Life of a thrown away bag

Its final resting place was an ordinary field in the heart of a vast country.  It came to rest near the lonely tree after an usually strong summer storm.  Visions of a sterile plant, being crammed with others, and loaded in a truck, were its earliest memories.  The height of its life was being chosen to aide, loaded with goods, and hauled to a home. Shortly after, it was emptied again and packed with others like it, although not as neat this time.  Chosen a second time, only to learn of its fate as a doggie poo bag, it leaped into the wind, trying a daring escape.  It found itself flying with the wind, free to roam, and feeling alive. Out of the city, and into the vast warm and wet night it went.  Tired from the long journey, it fell asleep and dreamed of its new life.  Awoken by the sound of birds and the feel of the sun, it wondered if this was paradise.  Determining it was a brief stop in its new life, it now waits for its next adventure.  Its next storm.

Resting place.

Resting place.

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47 responses to “Life of a thrown away bag

  1. I only wish some people would be as decent to carry these small bags when they walked their dogs , instead of making quick deposit in front of my well cared for , manicured yard….They better watch out ..next time I will be armed with my camera and paying our local paper to published the wonderful pic in the front page for everyone to see their work or lack of it…lol

  2. I see a picture book in this story. My buddy Walker never ever barks. The ONLY time we have ever heard his bark was when he noticed a similar bag in our neighbors pasture. He was very disturbed by it and wanted it to go away.

  3. Resting place indeed! It’s so interesting how you narrated the journey of the thrown away bag. This must really be some paradise for it. Who could ever tell whether objects have a mind of their own? Lovely post! 🙂

  4. Seth! Bags that think! I’ll never be able to treat my bags the same again. I used to consider myself environmentally-sound for recycling
    them by putting the rubbish into them. But, now, knowing they hate the idea of doggy poo bag experiences and similar, I’ll have to change my way of life. Aaaagh!

  5. It’s so life for us. We’re used for good, they use us for poo. Life is a series of changing environments and enjoying and being as grateful as we can. You’re a great writer.

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