Angel statue

With wings but unmoving. A statue of a little angel sits on swirled shells with a hand holding the chin and an expression of boredom. I sit blended in with the shadows of two flightless pelicans and a short vase filled with orange flowers. Much like the little angel I sit with I have nothing to do and no one to play with. I would say my expression is one of boredom as well but I am a shadow so you are unable to see my face. I watch the family move about and their grandchildrens visits. I watch arguments and greetings. Partys and lonesome nights, I witness it all from my spot under the living room table. I remain unscathed because none goes near a table just for decor not large enough to be of use. Perhaps if one were to come near and crack the little angel I would have another part of myself to speak to. But until such an event occurs I sit in boredom witnessing lives continue one.