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I, the Object

Put your body in that of an inanimate object. Choose one that already exists or make one up, and then describe yourself.
Usually, you don't notice me standing in the corner all by myself. Even when you do, all you see is a hollow prop, waiting to be useful, waiting to be needed, waiting, waiting while the clock ticks its minutes slowly by. But I am alive inside. Energy runs through me constantly, crackling with potential but hidden, encased inside my skin. It only takes a single touch from you to send jolts through my core, electrifying my every nerve until a warm glow touches my face, illuminating the beauty I've been keeping in the dark. And then you can't help but see me. Your face turns to me and you smile. Shadows covering your expression flee the room as they're banished into the night; my light is mirrored in your eyes.

Sometimes it seems you love me, sidling close to bask in my radiance - the radiance I have because of you. But you never look for long and you don't touch me again. Not until you decide you want to leave. Then without a second thought you flip your hand dismissively and the light inside me dims and dies. You leave and I am left in the dark again.

But even when you are not there a current still hums along my being. I contain it, as always, never letting you see just how dangerous I could be and though you dismiss me oh so casually I find I cannot help but wait. Wait until tomorrow night when you switch me on, once again.

(POV of a standing lamp.)