The Cone
Life was frustrating for the cone. It was neither here nor there, up or down, inside out or spinning. Well ok, that’s a lie, it was on the pavement. All on its own, on a cold winter evening. It was getting near Christmas, and the lights attached to lampposts around it bathed cool but colourful light over its bright orange exterior.
As the more observant pedestrian would point out, it was emblazoned with the word ‘caution’ down one side. It wasn’t guarding anything, not protecting some road works in progress, or overseeing the important job of watching wet concrete dry. It was just on its own. I suppose you could say it was cautioning people that it was there, to protect it against a certain sort of person. That sort of person thinks a bit like this:
‘hmm, I’m walking down the street. Look at all the pretty dazzly lights! Ohh look! Something else vaguely bright orange on the floor, lets walk in a direction which will collide with that the logic of a normal person would say is a real solid object that doesn’t want to be collided with. Oh wait, the object says caution. I better not walk into it then, as if the word caution rather than the fact that it is a bright orange cone is a reason to be wary of it.’
It was also an advantage that is was small, and to some people unnoticeable. This protected it from the sort of person who thought like this:
‘Oi, where can I get my next bottle of value cider with this fake ID mush’
The cone didn’t like those sort of people. They kicked cones, and were generally considered not to be in the slightest way reasonable and conscientious members of society. And the cone liked society, it thought it was nice in a fuzzy sort of way. It was also wary of those student types, who occasionally took good cones like itself prisoner inside their homes. But for the moment this cone was safe, it was in the middle of the pavement, being passed by everyone in the street, left to its own devices.
I also said it was frustrated. That was a lie as well I suppose. Really it was quite content. It was where it wanted to be, in the street, with the people, doing the important task of alerting people and bringing to the forefront of their attention that it existed and was possibly in their way. It was a good existence. But as the evening drew on, and the shops closed up, it got a little tired of its job. I don’t confess to knowing quite how small orange cones phrase their thoughts, but it went something like this:
‘Alerting people to my existence and enriching their day with my presence is good, but I could really do with a mince pie and a large mocha from the Starbucks just there.’
There was a free mince pie offer with any coffee (offer includes cones) sign up, and never one to miss a bargain, the cone moved in its conely fashion up to the door, and went in.
Add comment December 3rd, 2006