After fifteen years of use, my parents got rid off the old couch in our living room. The Old red couch that had been in my life for as long as I remember, is now sitting on the curb, in pieces, soking wet, waiting to be crushed by the garbage truck in the morning. It's sad to see my old friend die this way, but all good things come to a end, and so must my couch.
I would remember that my parents always said I 'hid' the remote from them in the couch. And I had to go on a search mission to find the remote in the maze of suffing and springs.
The reason for my couch's demise is because over the past few years it has fallen apart. The center of the couch is a sink hole where you can't get up, the right recliner has been bent into disrepair, and over all; it sinks from years of dog stench and teen B.O.
But I loved that couch, It was the couch I laid on while I was sick, it was the couch where I would play my ps1 once in a while. I took naps on that couch, I ate on that couch, I lived on that couch.
But now, the couch is gone... and a new one is coming next week. And all I have left are the memorys and a small sample of the old couch.
Good bye, my old friend.