Life stories of a recycled piece of paper

I came out of the paper mill blank. I felt so naked and exposed! A true blank canvas. This scared me at first, but then I realized I was full of potential. They don’t tell you that at the paper mill, of course-you’re just an average joe, run-of-the-mill, something for people to scribble on. But I knew I had so much life ahead of me (thanks to recycling). Like endless lives (take that cats!). I was determined to live with purpose, in honor of the tree that gave their life for me.

In my first life, I was an electricity bill. Being a thing people dread is not the first impression I wanted to make. But you gotta start somewhere I suppose. The couple I was addressed to opened me, sighed, and set me on the kitchen counter. I had great conversations with the fruit bowl. Did you know kiwis actually have a New Zealand accent? Apples claim they keep the doctor away. Oranges spread juicy gossip. The bananas told great stories about growing up in the tropics. I asked if they got backaches from being so curved all the time and they asked if I got stiff from being straight all the time-touché. After about a week, the couple picked me up again and tore me apart. I guess they paid their debt and wanted to be rid of me. I don’t blame them. I sat in the recycle bin for a few days and was glad to find an empty can of beans to keep me company (I’m scared of the dark). But then they started telling stories of the can opener and it got pretty gory. I was shaking like a leaf! I was glad when the recycle truck came and we parted ways in the big bin. I dreamed of…