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You fade into being slowly. It is a gradual, gentle thing, slow and rhythmic and soothing. You are very much tempted to fall back into the sleep you were just born of, not because you resent the world but because the world is so peaceful.
The braiding ends with the blade of a guillotine. You are a length of rope, just now braided, laying amongst other ropes like you.
This you like well enough too– there is a pleasantness in being completed. You are also quite fond of your name, for having one imbues you with purpose. A rope, after all, is a wonderful thing.
You wonder what you will become. Perhaps you will secure a man as he works, or be used on a ship and see the world, or be the finishing touch on a gift. The possibilities are endless, and you look forward to your life.
~
After some time in the factory, you are placed in a box and sent off somewhere. It is dreadfully dark, but you are not scared. This, after all, is the start of your new life.
After some time– you cannot really feel it pass, so it has been perhaps days and perhaps hours– the box is opened. The light is quite bright, and takes you by surprise, but as you adjust it becomes clear that you are at a little hardware store.
You are surrounded by many things you haven't seen before, all of which fill you with awe. The tape measures entrance you, the hammers you regard with fascination, and the saws scare you a little, but it is not too hard to understand that even they have a job to do.
A man, the worker, picks you up. His hands are warm, and rough. He hangs you on the wall in a gentle sunbeam. You have, you think, a wonderful life.
~
More time passes. The sun rises and sets. People of all kinds come into the store. You watch them with rapt fascination.
One day, a particularly interesting man walks in. There is a certain swagger about him, like he is so sure of himself that he never cares to bother with what other people think. This impresses you.
You watch, rapt, as he walks over to you. He plays with you in his hands, wraps you in a circle and then pulls you taut, before allowing you to relax once again. The man, pleased, carries you over to the cashier. You cannot help but feel excited– you are about to find your true purpose in life.
The cashier sets you in a paper bag, and the man carries you away. His arms are warm, not like the sun, but in a way you cannot describe.
~
You are pulled out of the bag in a large room. It is filled with all sorts of things you have never seen before, even at the hardware store. Given the way the man so naturally flits about the room, you assume this is where he lives. A human home is strange to you, but you look at it with delight, for this is where you are going to live. You allow yourself to entertain some grand fantasies about carrying out some wonderful purpose here.
A second man enters. This one looks strong, the kind of person more likely to buy a rope than the man who'd brought you here, but something about him is somehow delicate. You, who knows so little about the world, cannot say what it is.
The two men speak for a while. Their voices come out in low whispers. You do not understand human language, but have no doubt they are discussing something grand and important.
The second man keeps giving you glances. This delights you– soon, you think, you will be useful. Your birth will at last have a purpose.
~
You sit on a large wooden chest for some time. You have faith you have not been forgotten, though, for the second man has continued to give you looks every so often. Once, he even picks you up, and twirls you around his fingers.
A third man enters. He greets the other two warmly. They talk for a short while, the conversation animated.
The second man picks you up, holding you behind his back. His hands are somewhat soft. You do not dislike them.
You are wrapped around the third man, suddenly. He is very warm– more warm, certainly, than anything you have felt before. You enjoy it, and bite into his skin a little, which is very, very soft. You cannot help but marvel at it.
The man stops moving. You are disappointed, for he has cooled a little. He had felt so vibrant just a moment before. You had marveled at the strange beating he produced beneath you, which you have never felt from anyone's hands. Though– the hands of the man who's holding you now have begun to shake quite violently.
At once, you are dropped around the third man in a tangled coil. Have you been forgotten? You try not to grow despondent. Surely, they will remember you.
You have never been good at understanding time, so you are not sure how long it has been when the first man comes to retrieve you. It feels like it has been a small eternity, and so you are quite pleased to see him.
He sets you in a drawer. You decide to have faith that you will not be forgotten, that your true purpose awaits you yet.
~
The drawer opens like a rebirth. Has he come for you?
You are delighted to find that the answer is yes, that the man from the store has chosen you once again. He seems pleased, like he's in on some joke you're not privy to. You do not mind.
The man takes you and wraps you around a pile of books. You are quite satisfied– this is a noble purpose, you think.
He picks you and the books up, and hands you to another man– hands you to another man! You are very happy indeed. To be a gift is the most wonderful fate you could have possibly hoped for.
The new man holds you, and carries you outside. The street is cold, and bathed in nighttime darkness, but you are over the moon.
You, after all, are a present. You sit wrapped around the books, secure and satisfied in the knowledge that you have brought joy and happiness.