Brutally slung around a tree trunk and it's supporting wooden post beside a bus stop, the bright red slinky
wibbled slightly in the wind. I always find the sight of abandoned children's toys bleak yet fascinating, and this in particular really caught my mind one wet Wednesday morning. Rather than just being thrown away, there was a degree of intent behind it - more decorative than aggressive, certainly - but interesting nontheless. I couldn't stop looking at it, wondering how it had ended up here, and why. I suppose it could have just been a really shit present.
Despite it's positively bright appearance - the fiery red plastic curls a stark contrast to the grey surrounding vista -
no one else seemed to pay the abandoned slinky any notice at all, apart from a school boy who arrived shortly after I snapped this photo. After initially building up the courage to wander over and poke it, he then visibly came to the decision that it retained enough spring to be worth salvaging, and began unravelling the spaghetti mess from its trappings.
As my bus pulled away, I watched out of the window as the final section of the slinky was untangled. Proudly removing it from its resting place with a satisfied grin; he looked around to try and find someone to share this moment of success with, to no avail.
It was unexpectedly pleasant to see someone rescuing the toy from its grave, but I can't help but wonder where it ended up after this. Who knows, perhaps it'll end up in a shoebox for years to come, kept for decades as an inexplicably meaningful memento.
Or maybe the buzz of success had worn off just moments later, the boy finding himself encumbered by a shit toy he didn't really want, leaving it behind for another child to discover and unravel.
It is a cold Tuesday morning. You get off the bus, and step into a puddle. You look up, and you see this. I don't even know where to begin.
