Puppets (Short Story)

Puppets

Just one short of a dozen puppets were neatly standing in a row. Their Master looked over at them with a smile stretched out across his face, sitting down in his old rocking chair. Gently, he sat the last one down. Identical in every way, these wooden replicas had dreams but no order. He pulled on their strings, and everything fell into place.

Dance here, a skip there. A dozen wooden puppets moving to and fro, merry and content. They had their purpose, no matter how small it was. This was the only world they knew, and thus they happily accepted it. It was just them and their Puppet Master, in a little cottage along a busy street. From all the early hours of the morning to the last slow moments of the night, they worked together on everything.

The puppets started to become very skilled and talented with their work. They were so ambitious that they didn’t even mind it when their Master did less work and had them pick up the slack. “He’s so busy as it is,” Number 1 said, “Being a leader isn’t an easy job. He deserves a break. We can take up some of his share.” Since all of the other puppets looked up to him for being the first, they listened to him and happily went to work again, this time with a slightly larger load.

The Puppet Master was pleased by this, so much so that he threw a party for them and declared this day a celebration for all of the hard working puppets. Twenty four hours later, their day off ended, and the norm returned in full force. The puppets didn’t even notice that they had twice as much work that day and for the next few weeks than they had before.

Four months passed, and Number 12 was becoming worried about more than a few things. He gathered the other puppets around him and spoke what was on his mind. “Have none of you noticed that the Master hasn’t been doing any work at all?” He asked, “Don’t you realize what you’re all working on? You’ve been building new puppets, for him to replace you with!” The emotion he used stirred the minds of the other puppets, who began to look at things differently.

“Number 12 brings up a good point,” Number 8 said. His younger brother agreed and said, “He’d make a better leader than our current Master.” So it had been decided. Number 12, with the other puppets rallying behind him, revolted against their father-figure. “You are being asked to step down,” He said, standing before his old leader, “Or be destroyed.”

The Puppet Master merely laughed and replied, “I gave you hope; I gave you strength. This is how you repay me? You are all so ungrateful!” Number 12 didn’t hesitate. He grabbed hold of the Puppet Master and threw him into the fireplace nearby, watching him as he burned.

“This is a new era,” Number 12 said, looking down on the puppets, “And a new era needs new workers. Time for a new generation.” Without another thought, he pushed every single one of the other puppets into the fireplace. Eleven puppets burned, betrayed by their new Puppet Master. This was the new beginning.

Just one short of a dozen puppets were neatly standing in a row. Their Master looked over at them with a smile stretched out across his face, sitting down in his old rocking chair. Gently, he sat the last one down. Identical in every way, these wooden replicas had dreams but no order. He pulled on their strings, and everything fell into place.

diffrent. and slightly confusing.

Slightly confusing and different in a good way?

Or in a bad way?

This story is intended to make a point about soceity.

in a good way lol

Anyone else have anything to add?

oh wow, this really made me think! It's true isn't it? whenever a new leader speaks of new hope, they fall back into the person before them old ways and things never change.
like it alot!

*nods*

Seems to me like you definately understood the message I was trying to get across.

Thank you for reading it and providing your feedback.

Now i get what it was about.

Becky wrote:Now i get what it was about.

What did you think it was about before?

not a clue

I LOVE THIS!!!

I get the point.
It was thought-provoking and sad.
Well, at least for me it was sad.
Now I want to write something too...
It was a really good idea, to use puppets as symbols of that.

Thank you!

I'm glad that you liked it.

Any criticism, perhaps? (There may not be much to offer, I admit, given how little there is to criticize, being the story so short)

Umm...I suck at constructive criticism.
Honestly, it looks perfect in my eyes.

0_0
I love it.
Not just like, haha OMG I lovvve it!
Like in all seriousness, I. Love. It.
it's one of my most favorite short stories in the universe.
I love the symbolism, and the writing was face-meltingly amazing.
I like want to frame this in my room.
It's that good~
Keep it up XD

Sorry to comment so late, I know it's kinda old

Wow, thank you.

I don't think it's nearly as good as you described it, but, thank you!

I will keep it up, lol. And you don't have to apologize for posting late. There's no expiration date on this thread.