Iridescence

Silly introspective piece. A
homework assignment to write a very short descriptive story about an object
without using a metaphor.

Iridescence

          It was sitting on the counter again. That damn lonely
bottle. I couldn’t figure out what was so important about it, but the sight of
it still struck me in some crazy way. It was tall and brown, ridges on the top
of its mouth and no label to be found. In the lights of the kitchen, the browns
turned to a deep red, like brick or blood and the thick glass seemed almost
iridescent, throwing off hundreds of subtle colors on the walls. Its bowels,
though empty, still smelled sweet, but not sickeningly so, just light and
pleasant. It was still cold, as though it had been sitting outside for a very
long time, though condensation had quickly disappeared. The sunlight threw long
arches of colors from the glass all over, making it look like a mix between a
not well varied rainbow and some sort of insane art piece. The empty bottle
made a sort of nice, ringing, chinking sound as it was picked up and put by the
back steps so it could be thrown away. Those bottles always seemed somewhat
lonely with their long necks and old type etchings on the sides. Instead of the
paper labels of today, they had never changed their shapes and designs from
thirty years ago, instead the names and prices were risen from the glass like
Braille. They were lonely, but a pleasant sight. The smell of ginger served to
remind me, however, that it was just an empty glass of root beer, not a symbol
for a deeper meaning of life.