Dollar Bill by #224

It's not easy being a dollar bill. Half of the time you're spending that day in a old and weathered wallet, and the other half in a freezing and depressing register. But for some strange reason fate made today different, I might never now why but today, today I was set on a window ledge.

I sat on that pale white, window ledge for hours, maybe even days, it was close to impossible to tell time with no watch to gaze upon with my small but watchful eyes. For what seems like the millionth time stared longingly out the window, it was that time of year when snow flakes blanket the ground and the sun's time in the sky is shorten. Huge children pressed their pudgy faces against window displays while waddling through the thick, dull snow, while mothers desperately tried to yank them away. Through out the day a lone car would hesitantly trod it's way through the frozen street in hope to make it though the unsafe short cut. A tree that seemed to meet the sky began to cripple under the weight of the billions of snow flakes.
When it finally gave way I watched through foggy glass as it began to fall gracefully and capture long, thick power lines with in his hundreds of hands. The lines began to spill out large flames through it's wounds that whirled down the street straight towards my shelter. It was suddenly unbearably warm on this cold windowsill. I saw ribbons of fire dance it's way around my room. As a small piece of paper there was nothing I could do but try not panic. Suddenly a high pitched screeching noise filled the air and red lights that did not belong to the flames were to be seem on the walls. Out of nowhere a harsh mist attacked the energy, destroying it. After that it was a big haze. When I finally awakened from my faint slumber I was in an old weathered wallet, but hey, that's the life of a dollar bill.