the reel clattered frantically against the plastic as its coat was stripped, inch by inch, from it's ever thinning body. a metal spear ensured none of the reel's escape attempts were successful, holding it captive from the inside. any other personified object would have felt extremely dizzy and nauseated from the continuous spinning experience, but the reel was helpless and hopeless, so much so that it couldn't think or feel or do anything. maybe it really was because it was just a wooden, cotton reel and never had such attributes. an object with a purpose but no conscious existence possibly in place to balance out the conscious but purposeless entities that grace and consume the planet.