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“Write from the POV of a pet or inanimate object. What do they observe that other characters don’t?”

Posted in Character on Jan 30, 2026

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✍️ 132 stories

Lonely

Weekly Contest #340

I was staring at a pair of shoes. Again.Scuffed toes, frayed laces, and green canvas. Skinny ankles sprouted upwards into the smallest person who lived in the house. She barely cast a shadow on a sunny day, and I hadn’t even heard the swish of her steps on the grass. She’d sneaked up on my hiding spot. I sighed.Drops of rain gathered on the edge of the leaves above me then dropped with soft plips onto the ground. A light rain had started when the sun dipped behind a cloud.My toes and my coat were damp. An icy chill crept along my back with a...

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Man's Best Friend

Weekly Contest #340

To be completely honest with you, as a rule, I usually don’t care for men. There are of course exceptions to the rule: Grandpa for one, Leo at A Dog’s Day Out for another. And of course, Max. I’m sure there are others, or have been, but you’ll have to forgive me for not being able to call them to mind immediately—the number is vanishingly small. It’s nothing personal. But you have to understand where I’m coming from. First and foremost is their size. I understand there’s nothing humans can do about walking on two legs like absolute maniacs....

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Writer For Hire

Weekly Contest #340

Re: Writer for Hire To Whom it May Concern, I am writing in response to the position posted on JobSeeker, dated 1/30/26, seeking a writer. In lieu of a standard (boring, mundane) resume, I have decided to more thoroughly express my talents through a letter. They say, “The pen is mightier than the sword,” and that is just what I am. A BIC Glide (formerly Atlantis) Exact Retractable Black Pen. My retail price for a pack of 12 is $17.99, a small price for the genius that is borne of my ebony ink. You may be asking yourself, “Why consider thi...

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The Spring of Lou

Weekly Contest #340

Of course, I watch. How could I not? That, and to bobble, is my purpose, as it is of all my friends with me on this dresser. My name’s Lou, and I was my owner’s first. It didn’t take long for more to join us as Matt’s passion for America’s pastime grew. My teammates and I stand a few feet behind him when he sits at his desk to listen to games. Our heads are steady and waiting with anticipation until he turns around, chooses one of us, maybe more, and flicks our caps. “Let’s go, boys! Moose is on the mound, and the offense is clicking. We g...

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Two is a Solid Number

Weekly Contest #340

I am the first one awake. This is not because I choose it, but because my body does. Before light reaches the curtains, before the pipes creak or the birds begin their negotiations outside, something in me lifts its head and listens. The house is still breathing. That is how I know the night has not yet let go.I stay where I am. I have learned that movement has consequences. From the floor, I can see the underside of the table, the chair legs like thin trees, the shoes lined against the wall. They smell of outside. Old rain. Stone. The plac...

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I Am Lucy

Weekly Contest #340

I am placed where truth lingers the longest. Not because it is brave enough to stay, but because it has nowhere else to go. Each morning, she stands before me and arranges herself into something acceptable. Shoulders back. Chin lifted. A face practiced enough to pass. I know the versions she does not keep. I know the pauses between breaths when the room is still and she forgets to perform. I know the way her eyes soften when she thinks no one is watching, and harden again the moment she remembers me. She believes I only return what I am giv...

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I’m Going To Be A Hero, Retire Upstate, and Have a Little Girl Feed Me Treats

Weekly Contest #340

Officer Bucky Baker paces in front of the cages, unable to decide. A medium-sized German Shepherd barks at him, whimpering. The dog sizes the human up. The human is painfully thin, with a wide-eyed stare, a receding hairline, and he scratches the side of his head a lot, indicating a lack of decision-making and self-esteem. But he needs a home. He’s been at the shelter for six months, and he knows that if he’s not picked soon, he could go to the room of permanent sleep. So, he sells his compassionate side by quietly barking and whimpering aga...

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On Food, Time, and Other Things Humans Get Wrong

Weekly Contest #340

My name is Dave. I am a dog, which means I understand the universe far better than humans do. This is not arrogance. This is observation. Let’s take food, for example. Humans think food is something that happens at “mealtimes.” They put it in bowls, look at clocks, and say unhinged things like, “You just ate,” or “Dinner isn’t for another hour.” This is adorable, but incorrect. Food is not an event. Food is a state of being. It is a constant, like gravity, or the urge to bark at absolutely nothing at 2:17 a.m. Food exists at all times. You s...

8 likes 6 comments 6
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Don't Tell Anyone (I Still Need You)

Weekly Contest #340

You live under the bed now.Not all the way under—just far enough back that your ear is pressed against the wall and your tummy brushes the dust line where the broom never reaches. It smells like old carpet and metal bedframe and the ghost of a sock that went missing months ago.You remember when the bed had legs you could see all the way around. When light lived down here too. Now, the light only comes in skinny and careful, a stripe from the hallway when the door opens, a blink from the phone screen when he drops it and groans and reaches do...

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The Iron Jaw

Weekly Contest #340

The floorboards pressed hard against my rib cage. I did not move. To move was to make sound, and sound was death. Above me, the boy’s heart hammered against the mattress slats. I ran my tongue over my serrated teeth, a wet, slick sound in the silence.But mostly I read the room in heat. The corner by the window was cold… a blue cold that pulled warmth from my nose. The spot where the Small One’s feet dangled over the bed edge was red-warm, pulsing with his quick blood. The blood drops on the floor from three nights ago, when the Tall Man had ...

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Feline Catalyst

Weekly Contest #340

NB: Minimal references to (non-violent) consensual sexual behaviour in a humorous context. ———- ’Feles in matta sedit’. It sounds better in Latin than the clichéd saying, ‘the cat sat on the mat’. I, the ‘Feles’ in question, am sprawling on the ‘matta’, not averse to tripping up anyone silly enough not to look where they’re going. Something weird is going on in this household. To explain, I need to take you back to last Monday. Breakfast. Imagine the scene. ‘Nerdy Daughter’ is practising her Latin out loud, to annoy her brother, (whom I h...

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My Point of View

Weekly Contest #340

I will be honest, my good friend, it was scary! Very scary. Dark. Cold. And worst of all…lonely! Oh, so very lonely. But then you showed up! I know you can’t understand me, but I still want to show you why you’re the best human ever! It was a very cold day when I first saw you, but you made everything instantly warmer! I knew this could be my chance; seeing your long black fur on your head and some sort of fuzzy fur jacket, I just had to get closer and feel the warmth radiating from you. This seemed to have gathered your attention; I couldn’...

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A Page From My Book

Weekly Contest #340

She doesn’t hold me like she used to. Maybe you think I’m being dramatic. Have you heard the saying “put yourself in their shoes”? Well put yourselves in my jacket and you will then grasp my “dramatic” introduction. It all starts with a word. A letter even. That's how I came to be. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to what would hopefully be my forever shelf. It was exciting, you know? Starting fresh, turning a new page. At least that’s what I was told. Still, I imagined it was going to be everything I’ve dreamed of, maybe even more, to...

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Beyond the Dirt Road

Weekly Contest #340

The old man was the first person I saw when I woke up.The fuzzy feeling in my eyes turned into fuzzy light and that light soon turned into shapes. With a finale tickle from his brush, the shapes turned into brilliant, beautiful things all around me and I saw for the first time the old man sitting there and smiling. He sighed with satisfaction and leaned back in his chair to gaze at me. “There we go,” he said, “You’re finally beautiful.”As he turned and cleaned his brushes his merry gray eyes laughed at me through delicate wire spectacles. I ...

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The Patience Program

Weekly Contest #340

They think I was made to prepare coffee. I am here to train patience.Today, like every other morning, the first customer arrives early. He is always the first. He comes between 5:03 and 5:16. Sometimes later, rarely sooner.His eyes are barely open when he looks at me. His hand moves automatically, one finger poking.Black.Double sugar.He drops the coins he has been holding in his fist into my slot. I let them fall into the safe before moving any part of myself. Each coin is heard clearly. The amount is correct.Only then do I begin the grindin...

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