Melting

“I’m melting, melting!”
cried the Wicked Witch of the West.

“There are worst things in life,”
smirked the candle.
“It’s a sacrifice for
letting out some light.”

“Or cooling things down,”
added the ice cube.
“And then you change
into something else.
Water, for me. Wax, for him.”

“And maybe next time,
you’ll become something
more permanent,”
declared the fork.

“Oh, what a world! What a world!”
cried the Wicked Witch of the West.

“Indeed,”
said the lightbulb,
“indeed.”

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