Hit The Sidewalk

Posted: October 2, 2010 by Nate Phillipps in Fiction, Parables
Tags: , , ,

The cold sidewalk crept along the street, upholding the feet of busy bodies.  The sidewalk didn’t mind; at first the sidewalk was new and everybody enjoyed it greatly.  The users worked for a living  and upkeep happened every week.  The street cleaner swept the autumn leaves away every day.

Soon the shoes started to squeak and moan with every step.  The leaves started to accumulate in piles, the street sweeper didn’t come around as often.  One day, the sidewalk felt a gooey wetness but the sun shone strong.  Slowly, the sidewalk realized somebody’s spit now adorned the surface of the pavement.

Shambles!  The sidewalk yearned to only be spit upon, but now, covered in discarded gum, litter, cracks, and even the occasional homeless person, the sidewalk’s pride sunk to a new low.  The once pristine sidewalk that served the productive members of society now served the rabble.  The heat and feet took too big a toll, and soon the sidewalk started to crumble.

After receiving several complaints from people who paid no taxes, the government came and started to hit the sidewalk with hammers.  After completely obliterating the sidewalk, the government laid down new pavement for the homeless, the looters and leechers.  As the old sidewalk died, no tears were shed, no glasses were raised in honor of the years of service rendered.

The sidewalk crept along in a dump truck, unable to hold its shape.

© 2010 Nate Phillipps


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s