The lightbulb grew a bit dimmer after a few days of silent wallowing in wake of his friend's death. But never once did his smile falter, always thinking positive thoughts.
'He is in a better place now.'
'He is with me in spirit.'
'No one's light ever truly goes out.'
All the lightbulb could do was look out his new window at the large object with a thick brown base and writhing protrusions of the same color. He watched the green on this object dance in the breeze as the cotton above it slowly drifted across the vast blue ceiling.
He often lost himself in the outside world before him, brushing off or sometimes not even noticing the rude comments other lightbulbs would throw at him. Whenever he would catch a few comments, he couldn't help but think of his friend. The friend who would help ward off the lightbulbs who teased him and verbally assaulted him.
Now that his friend was gone, he was left alone, out in the open, vulnerable. The lightbulb didn't like it this way but there was nothing he could do except sit idly by and take what was given him.
'I wish you were here, you could help me.'
'Why did you have to leave me like this?'
'You could have prevented this!'
'It's all your fault...'
