Waking Up

            It was pitch black. They’d been there for ages, unable to move or look at one another until a sudden burst of light came forth. A scraggly man climbed up rummaging through his stock. He opened a box and gazed at shiny objects. Then he stared at his plastic statues, who stared back in relief, it was time to go out. They smile at one another; glad to be free once again breathing the deep December air.