The chair dominated the small room*, silently pleading for someone to sit. Dusting it, I chuckled to myself.
The corner had needed the perfect chair – not too big or small, not too contemporary or rustic, equal parts appealing to the eye and soothing to the body.
We never found the exact one, so we had one made. Upon completion, we carefully secured it in the back of the pickup and drove home.
Wind gusting, something caught RT’s eye in the rearview mirror. Our precious new chair. At the side of the road. Hijacked by a freak wind.
Now it stands, mostly unused, but perfectly rustic.
*And, that, my friends, is my Saturday Centus for this week. (And, by the way, it's true). This week's prompt, above, is in red. Ride the wind over to Mrs. Jenny's and try out the other Centusian's chairs.