IF PAPER COULD SPEAK...

This is a story of a newspaper. Imagine if newspapers could speak, they would surely have tales to tell, waiting for someone to listen, just as I need someone to understand my emotions. This is the story of Paper, who longed to share his journey with the world.

Hi, my name is Paper, and today I’d like to share a day in my life.

I was created some time ago, and after all the hustle, I rested with my companions, sleeping peacefully before the sun rose. The room was dark; all I could see were shadows, and all I could hear was the soft breathing of my fellow newspapers. I felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, unsure of what the future held for me. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

My eyes fluttered open when the lights were switched on. I quickly nudged my friends to wake up, eager to begin our journey. Soon, a man entered and picked up a bundle of us. I was in the middle of the stack. As he stepped outside the building, a cool morning breeze brushed against my surface, sending a chill through me. I felt goosebumps, and I think my friends did too, for I sensed them shivering slightly. Being in the middle, I wasn’t as cold, shielded by those above and below me.

We were carefully placed on top of a machine, which I later learned was called a motorcycle. It was incredibly fast! At first, I was scared, thinking, "What if I flew away?" We clung to one another tightly, even though we were already tied together to prevent such accidents. After a while, though, it started to feel exhilarating. The wind rushed past, and I felt free of my worries, even if just for a moment. But then, the motorcycle stopped, ending the thrill.

The man began walking through a small community. The streets were quiet, with a few people heading to work, children on their way to school, and elderly folks enjoying the morning on their balconies. One by one, my friends were delivered to different houses. The man didn’t wait for anyone to collect them; he simply rang the bell and left the papers at their doors.

He started with the ground-floor homes, and then came the upper floors. I wondered if he would climb the stairs, but to my surprise, he began throwing some of my friends up to balconies. Amazingly, they landed perfectly. Then, it was my turn. He tossed me upward. I closed my eyes and braced myself... and just like that, I had arrived.

I lay outside for a while until a man from the house came out and picked me up. He read through my pages as he sipped his morning tea. However, he didn’t finish as he had to leave for work. Later, his son picked me up and flipped straight to the sports section, reading it for a few minutes before tossing me aside.

For the rest of the day, I was mostly left alone. Occasionally, someone would move me from one place to another, but no one paid me much attention. The rest of the family was busy with their phones or watching television. As night fell, I was tossed into a corner along with other newspapers that had arrived before me.

I don’t know how long I’ll stay here. The others aren't sure either. But it's the unknown future that still gives me hope. As I lie quietly in the corner, I watch the family together through thick and thin, living their lives.