Just a Statue on a Building

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story about a statue, and a boy who needed it's help

Submitted: March 30, 2017

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Submitted: March 30, 2017

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The ancient being stared out over the city he had once called his domain. He had now been reduced to little more than a statue, and had been that way for hundreds of years. He had seen wars fought, buildings fall, monuments erected, and people unite. He had more stories to tell than anyone else in the city, but he could not share them with anybody. Occasionally, a bird would land on his shoulder or head, and he would try to use telepathy to talk to it. More often than not, the bird would get startled, fly off, and leave the being all by himself; however, every once in a while, the bird would stay, and the being would tell the bird what he’d seen. Sadly, the bird never responded, though he hoped that their species might one day learn telepathy. He knew it was probably never going to happen, but he still had hope.

One day, it wasn’t a bird who came to see the statue, but a boy who couldn’t have been more than a teenager. Unlike the birds, the boy only sat in front of the statue and looked out over the city. He didn’t want to try to communicate telepathically yet, because the last time he tried that with a human, he was turned to stone.

The boy stopped overlooking at the city for a moment, and looked at the stature wistfully. “How long have you been up here? I’ve seen you in my history textbooks since I was a kid, but no one knows when you were built.”

That’s because I wasn’t built, the being thought to himself, but he let the boy keep talking. It was nice hearing another voice talking to him, even if that voice thought he was just a statue.

“I wish I was a statue sometimes. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. I’d just kind of exist and it’d be great, but I’m not a statue. I have people problems, like school and friends and stupid teen drama. It sucks and I hate it.”

Yeah, but at least you don’t have to worry about a bird pooping on your shoulder. The statue shuddered as he remembered the year of the drought, when he had bird excrement dried on his face for a year, until the rain came back.

“I figure, maybe if I came up here alone, I could forget about all that crap for a minute or two. I could just enjoy the view for a while.”

It is nice, isn’t it? The being knew the skyline better than any architect or inhabitant. He knew every nook and cranny and wanted desperately to go back to them. He couldn’t though, all because was stuck on this building for all eternity.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing any more. I don’t enjoy anything. I’m just kind of going through the motions, which sucks. When I’m at school, I can distract myself with work, but when I’m at home I can’t, and the wave of depression comes crashing down on top of me. I hate it. I’ve always been the optimist, Mr. Brightside, and the one guy anyone could count on to brighten their day. It doesn’t feel like that anymore though, and I don’t know why.” The boy looked back to the city skyline and, without a word, he stood up. He walked to the edge of the building and looked down at the world below. He dangled his toes off the edge, not paying any mind to the wind blowing him off balance.

The being figured this was the best time to try and talk to the boy, mostly because if he didn’t do something, he would never be able to talk to this boy again. He reached into the boy’s mind and implanted a thought. You know, I’m not just a statue and I’d hate for the only company I’ve had in hundreds of years to fall off a building.

The boy took a step back from the edge. “D-did you just talk to me?”

Well, not exactly. I used telepathy to put my thoughts in your head. I wasn’t super excited about doing it though.

The boy was slowing turning paler and paler by the minute, and the statue doubted that this was because of the cold. “But, you’re a statue. How can you talk to me?”

The statue figured it wasn’t worth trying to explain what he was doing again. I’m not actually a statue. I’m just made of stone for the moment. It’s quite annoying, if I’m being honest.

“So you heard everything I was saying?”

The being sighed internally. Yes.

“Well then. Do you have any advice?

The statue pondered for a moment. I do have some advice. Take a day or two just to wander. Wander the city, wander the forest, wander the country, or wander wherever you want to. Clear your head, have some adventures, and find something to love. The statue thought this was pretty good advice, though it was a bit more philosophical than he would have liked.

The boy stared at the statue, and ran its words over. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Thanks-,” the boy paused for a moment. “I don’t think I ever asked what your name was. What is it?”

The being had to remember. He hadn’t used or thought about his name in quite a long time. Then, like turning on a light bulb, he remembered it. Coron. My name is Coron.

“Coron. Huh, kind of a weird name. Granted, you’re a statue who can talk, so I guess it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard today.” With that, the boy left the roof, and the statue was left by himself once again.

Many years passed, though Coron wasn’t sure how many it was. It could have been five years or a century. Coron was wondering how he was going to turn himself, since he had been looking at the same view for quite some time, and a change of scenery would be nice. As he was contemplating this, he felt someone tap his shoulder. He couldn’t turn around, so he waited for whoever tapped his shoulder to walk to where he could see them.

“It’s me again.” Coron didn’t know who ‘me’ was, though the voice sounded familiar. The voice walked in front of Coron and he did look somewhat familiar. It was a man, easily in his mid 30s and small girl hiding behind him. “Coron, it’s me.”

Well, if the man knew his name, he probably knew about the telepathy. Who is ‘me’?

The man let out a deep laugh, and the little girl hid behind the man, presumably her father, and tried to disappear behind his legs. “I don’t think I ever gave you a name to call me by. Do you remember the boy who came to the roof many years ago? You gave him some sage advice. You told him to wander.”

Yes, I remember the boy. That boy was the only company Coron had received in too long, and he hadn’t had any since.

“Well, that boy grew up, and he found something to love. More accurately, someone, and that boy had a child. He told her stories about a mysterious talking statue and she desperately wanted to see it.”

Why are you speaking in third person?

“You raise a fair point. I’d like to introduce you to my daughter, Farren.”

The little girl poked her head out from behind her father, when he mentioned her name. “Mr. Statue, can you really talk?

Coron always smiled around children. Their innocence and happiness brought him joy. Yes Ms. Farren, I can talk. Do you have any questions for me?

The little girl’s jaw dropped and Coron smirked internally. After that, Farren had a seemingly endless number of questions for him. The only reason she stopped, was because it was getting dark and her father needed to take her home. As the man and his daughter walked away, Coron heard their conversation.

“Daddy, can we come back and talk to the statue again?”

“Yes sweetheart. Of course we can.” Coron smiled, or at least he tried to, and stared at the skyline as he waited for the man he had saved returned with his daughter, so the man could return the favor.


© Copyright 2017 Joshua Rowe. All rights reserved.

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