Fridge Mountain

The sun was bouncing off their flat white surfaces. From here they looked factory fresh, pristine white, and in his eyes the heap became a white fridge-capped Himalaya.
Drawing nearer, a seed of joyous incomprehension sprouted wildly in Junior's head: this was all the gear you had to respect, all the adult territory ' the things you could use, but had to be careful with ' hurled on top of each other, smashing into each other, upside down, doors left open, stuck inside of each other. All these domestic, Jones family taboos, broken at once; Junior felt like he had waited all his short life for this moment. This was freedom, the rules weren't just broken, in this place they had never existed.
Climbing up the mountain, junior could see that they were not so pristine; they were dirty, smelly, battered and broken. This was just getting better, for, surely, this just wasn't allowed. And in between these big white lumps¦..was stuff! House stuff, owned stuff, stuff you had to be mindful of, careful with, respectful of, now all piled up on top of each other, mixed up and ready to be trampled on. Junior stamped on a framed photograph, hoofed a doll into the ether, whizzed a CD over the top of the neighbouring mountain, and, or course, ran around and around, screaming and shouting like a small boy on the edge.
Stripped of their reverence, their aura of homelife sanctity, the fridges were for the taking, ripe for abusing. Near the top of the heap, a fridge similar to the one in the Jones kitchen teetered almost upright on the edge of a steep dip, offering a quick way down and an irresistible temptation to a small boy. Its upright position gave it a hint of its previous existence in the world of grown-up domesticity, a link that Junior could sense, bringing back the taboos into his mind. This only made the moment that bit more delicious as he threw himself into the side of the fridge, felt it rock forwards, swing back, then with one more kick (it was heavier than he thought) it rocked forwards again, stopped for just a moment (no!), slid a bit (come on!), then hit the incline, toppling over as its own weight finally took it sliding down in a way that changed it into a whole new kind of beast. It had once been a fridge. Then, it had become just a heap of junk. But now, it was a fast moving, powerful, dangerous heap of white metal. The link was broken. It was a new world. He belonged here. So did the fridge. It was his.
This was the future. Next time, he would ride inside. Don't get inside the fridge? As the grown-ups so eloquently put it, fuck you!