Abandonment.

The familiar glint of the sidewalk shone differently in this light. The wind intermittent, flicked at the wisps of tattered fabric dangling from the abandoned lawn chair. A flurry of unspoken questions arose within the man passing by, and to answer them would have eliminated the soothing element of mystery twisted into each and every fiber. As the scattered ash from the cigarette of a pedestrian gently dusted a discarded newspaper, a loose shred of material snapped once, like a deadly, cloth viper.

The eyes of this rootless traveler appeared to take in the whole scene, noting the actions, but not necessarily dissecting them and interpreting them as anything past face value. A twinge of melancholy arose within his facial mannerisms as his countenance altered. It was evident that within the realm of imperfection, beauty was all-consuming. He decided to rest within its arms for just a little while.

Dusk cloaked the discarded furniture, cloaking the street in silence. By the time the garbage truck labored to a halt the next morning, he had slowly come to consciousness. The operator cleared the block of the unwanted junk and headed toward the chair, now a precious source of solace to a weary outsider. As he proceeded, the man cried aloud "No! Not this chair!", the other man shrugged his shoulders, returned to the driver's seat and slowly pulled away.

The man, relieved, sank back into the beaten, soiled material, afraid to place his full weight on the unstable frame. He inhaled and exhaled with an uneven rhythm, an outward expression of his inner turmoil. It was time to move along and he reluctantly came to terms with this notion.

As he stood, he ignited his last cigarette and paused for a moment, drinking in the sight with his tired eyes. As he flicked the excess ash off the end, it danced mid-air and came to rest upon the once beloved chair.

He was gone the next week when the garbage truck reappeared to claim the refuse of the block. As the chair entered the compactor and was obliterated, the man was in another town, wandering about and seeking a place of rest. The chair was no more.