麻豆官网首页入口

by Iona, aged 13

The armchair felt worried. Old Mrs Jones usually came to visit at 3pm every Tuesday afternoon, but today she was late. When she finally arrived, she slumped into the armchair and burst into tears. The armchair listened as she sobbed the story of how her dog had died that morning. She was obviously very upset, so the armchair plumped up his stuffing until she felt more comfortable.

“My dog was seriously ill so I knew he was going to pass away soon - it just happened to be today,” sighed Mrs Jones.

“So sorry to hear that. Would you like a cup of tea?” asked Mrs Cairns, the armchair’s owner.

After Mrs Jones told her account, the armchair felt her sit less heavily. He could tell she was feeling better as she smoothed the soft purple fabric of his right arm. Later, Mrs Jones left, and the armchair settled down for a rest, knowing that Wednesday would be a particularly stressful day.

When the doorbell rang at 10am on Wednesday morning, the armchair’s heart sank as he knew that Tom, Mrs Cairn's four year old grandson had arrived. Tom immediately sprinted to the lounge and for the next two hours the poor armchair was poked and prodded with elbows and knees as Tom pretended the armchair was a knight’s castle, an enemy submarine and a pirate ship.
“Would you like some lunch now darling?” asked Tom’s Granny.

When Tom replied cheerfully, “Yes, please,” the armchair breathed a huge sigh of relief and pushed back all the fabric that had been ruffled out of place by Tom’s adventurous imagination. Although he knew Mrs Cairns enjoyed Tom’s visits, the armchair was completely exhausted and looking forward to a quieter Thursday.

Thursday’s visitor at 6pm was always Ben, Mrs Cairn’s middle-aged bank manager son. The armchair could feel Ben’s tired muscles relaxing into his comfortable cushions as he told his mum about some of his troublesome customers.

“Are you working too hard? Make sure you don’t put in too many hours,” advised Mrs Cairns.

“Don’t worry about me, Mum. It’s just we are short-staffed at the moment. Everything will be more organised when the new Assistant Manager starts,” explained Ben.

An hour later, the armchair felt Ben stand up with more energy having enjoyed his Mum’s home-cooked dinner of chicken casserole, mashed potato and peas. When Ben drove back home, the armchair felt happy because tomorrow was his favourite day.

Friday was housework day. The armchair loved how the house felt fresh and clean after Mrs Cairns had been round with her duster. The best bit was when he was tickled by the hoover. Pleased with her handiwork, Mrs Cairns sat down and felt cuddled by the armchair’s padded sides.

“It’s almost as if you can tell how people are feeling,” remarked Mrs Cairns as she stroked his violet material. If only she knew……