Not my couch


The sitting arrangement in the living room is made up of four sofas. The one that I am seating on is of the love seat variety. This name I assume is to describe how close you can be to another person whiles sitting on the same sofa without actually sitting on them or unduly invading their privacy. Or it could also be for more obvious reasons than I am ready to admit. But making love in a three-seat sofa should be more comfortable so I guess I might be right after all. But then again, since when did lovemaking rely on predominantly comfortable surroundings. If that were the case then we wouldn’t have sex on the kitchen counter, on the bare tile-covered-and-cold-as ice floor, in the backseat of a car or whiles standing.

The material used for the covers of the couch feels rough to touch when one strokes it in one direction and very smooth when stroked in the other direction. It also catches light in a peculiar manner. The surface of this material can look dull and shiny in parts at the same time. Reminds me of how my freshly trimmed head feels and looks like after a visit to the local barber.

One thing which made sitting on this couch enjoyable for me was the firmness of the cushion used as padding. The foam used was firm but not so hard as to jag you when you sat down with full force. With time and use or abuse, in the case of the one I am sitting on, the density of the foam has degraded. No longer does it feel firm to touch when sat on, rather it feels like I am sitting on day old bread these days.

The rest of the love seat that wasn’t meant to be sat on is made of wood that is polished and spray-painted to silvery shine on all of its visible surface but rough and coarse in its under parts. Very sensible carpentry, I think. But even with the coat of polish one can still see the grain of the wood which runs in tiny gray slits parallel to the length of the arm rest. An interesting feature of the wooden arm rest is of a slightly depressed region, carefully carved to accommodate the natural resting position of the arms whiles in a sitting position. The arm rest is also sandwiched between two panels of plywood covered in material.

After years of use however, dirt left to accumulate has formed a light crust of filth on the top ridges of the panel just to the right of the wooden arm rest. This was caused in part by the laziness of my sisters in performing their house chores and in part by my failure to supervise them.


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