This Seat Wasn’t Made for You—But She Was
“You don’t make a very good chair. But you’re learning.” She didn’t tell him she was going
Stillness given shape. These stories erase agency and replace it with function. You are not her pet. You are not her toy. You are her furniture—used, unmoving, essential. You don’t exist until she sits. And when she does, you vanish even further. To serve without being noticed. To support without being named. That is your purpose here.
“You don’t make a very good chair. But you’re learning.” She didn’t tell him she was going
“I slowly uncross my legs. My soles lift… drift off the floor… hover.” You’ve been summoned. And you know
“You’re not kissing. You’re not licking. You’re supporting.” Brunch was your idea. Cute, really. You wanted to
"DIG!" She said, pointing to a patch of sand near the dunes. The morning began with fog and