A short story about a neglected toy.
What have you discarded? Why? Do you miss it?
It was just another Tuesday afternoon in May. I sat at my writing desk. On a whim, I picked up my pen and this short story slipped out.
photo by ldyck
The Toy
The toy sat on the shelf untouched, unloved. Dust fell like snow, covering his coat. Still, she did not return to him, and he worried that she would never return—day after day, month after month, year after year.
He remembered her cuddles; he remembered her laughter. He'd shared so many secrets; held so many tears. He'd given her his heart. He could have turned bitter from neglect. But his heart remained pure. All he did was sit and wait; all he did was hope.
But one day... One day, he heard, "Mommy, can I play with this toy?"
"Huh? I forgot about him. Be careful; he was my favourite."
Gentle hands picked him up, held him close—to a beating heart.
Gentle hands picked him up, held him close—to a beating heart.
And he lived happily ever after.
Next Sunday evening...
Book Review: Sea Prayer by Khaled Hosseini
Unable to remain in their beloved homeland, a father and son struggle to find a new home.
Unable to remain in their beloved homeland, a father and son struggle to find a new home.
