The Chair That Wouldn't Stay Empty
An empty chair kept moving closer
each time I moved it somewhere I couldn't see.
I dragged the chair into the corner,
but found it beside me the next morning.
I blamed the wind, the floor, the house,
anything I could blame instead.
Some things follow you without moving;
some things wait without being asked.
One night, I turned the chair around
and found old marks carved into the wood.
I didn't remember putting them there,
but I knew I'd seen them before.
So I carried the chair outside
and set it down where the grass was tall.
For once, it stayed where I left it.
That night… I didn't bring it back.
I thought the chair was following me.
It wasn't. I was the one bringing it with me.
Copyright © Rowena Velasco | Year Posted 2026
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