My Life Has No Meaning

Story from a prompt

This story was created from an idea that a fellow writer had mentioned. (Write a story about an empty paper bag that has no life.) Mark Starlin, this is for you…

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Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

Ever since I was created I have felt unworthy and useless. The only thing I do is lay around all day. When I am touched from time to time, It’s to be shoved under another stack of similar sort. What am I to do? I have no extremities or way to get around. When I do get near the top again, I can get my flap to move a little when I concentrate. But otherwise it has been hopeless.

I was told that it used to be better for guys like me. It was us that got packed with all the good food, and then folded and saved for some other use. Now, with all the supposedly stronger plastic with handles, we are rarely used. I know that I would be good at holding someone’s fresh vegetables. Or even packaged products like tissues and napkins. The possibilities of what I can hold could be endless if given a chance.

But, here I am stuck at the same store without any hope. I can only dream that I will be important to someone some day. Be the one who is there when needed on an important day. Be thanked for all that I can do… Oh well, otherwise I’m just a brown, textured, flat paper bag with no immediate future.

The End