p = ρgd (p = atmospheric pressure ( 101,325 Pa);ρ = density (of water) ( 1000 kg/m^3 );g = gravity (9.81 m/s^2);d = depth) , is this what he is thinking? The ability of human lungs to suck in air, the energy exerted in this act, the running out of air, the gasp when the lips tighten over me, making me struggle within. Oh! How elated was I, when I finally got picked. My body doused in icy haven, the glittering fluid shining among the ceiling lights. Who was I picked up for? Swiftly , as I was being carried over the counter, there he was, eagerly awaiting my arrival. His skin gleaming as the morning sun, his deep set eyes filled with boundless hope and his lips aching to rest on me. As I was stood there in front of him, sticking my petite head from the clutch of his affectionate palm, he heavily sighed, the grip of his palm tightening with every sigh he uttered. Then, as a reluctant smile slowly emerged on his face, I knew it that very moment, the precious time had come. The sweet moment for which I was solely created. From the very moment I was crammed up like a bunch of sardines, standing side by side with my other sizeable companions, waiting and praying for the day to be finally picked. I was in a close proximity of his luscious pillowy lips. All of a sudden, he became giddy, his teeth slightly bruising me. Could he be so brazen with his happiness at the mere sight of my humble existence? Did I really give him sheer bliss? Gently as he laughed, he squeezed his lips over me and right then I surrendered with all that I had, with all that I was created for and floated in between his pink lips in a perfect vacuum. Splash ! Crack ! Swirl ! The icy interior was loosening its intensity; the clanking noises getting louder. A warm breeze woke me up from my reverie. I was back in the chaotic bickering world. He sat there laughing again and then he frowned . His eyes were no longer looking at me. The gaze had now shifted to a silhouette of a walking wardrobe. The pile of coats, shifting its ghostly pace stormed across him and he wondered why the coats were angry at him. NO!! Don’t you dare share it with her! I don’t want her lips on me!! He sighed and held me again. Like a talisman burned into the night , its ashes fluttering across the celestial sky , my heart broke into a thousand pieces, the ice beneath me now faded into the watery swirl. Was the pile of coats better than me? Was he thinking about the overly dressed lady all this while? Oh dear!! The smiles, the frowns, the sighs and those melting stares, were all for her, the layered one with a bag full of talisman. Well, then twist me and knot me up and fling me in a drink. For remember, no matter what a STRAW did in its entire life, you will always suck at it or on it! And, if there is a shaman waiting for me to predict my recycled rebirth, I pray to be dipped in a chunky smoothie so that a pair of luscious lips can suck on me even harder. After all, I’m just a humble straw lingering around waiting to be picked and sucked on.