One leg missing and the other hanging by a thread, the bedraggled teddy bear had sat forgotten on the thrift shop shelf for years.
“I want her,” Mollie said.
Mollie’s mother frowned.
“Pick something better. It’s your birthday.”
Mollie rolled her wheelchair closer to the shelf.
“No, I want her.”
Lionel Ray Green is a horror and fantasy writer, an award-winning newspaper journalist, and a U.S. Army gulf war veteran living in Alabama. He ironically loves Bigfoot and hobbits and believes Babe is the greatest movie ever made.
Again, leaving the grocery store, to the side of the exit, I see that large cage of big, bouncy, colorful plastic balls.
I want one each time I see them, but my wife and grandkids assure me I’m too old to play with such things anymore.
When did that happen?
Alexander Key teaches high school when absolutely desperate for attention.
“Shall we?” pondered Lord Flufferkins.
“Indeed,” said Sir Oakfeller.
“Tally ho!” cried Lord Flufferkins.
“Quite,” agreed Sir Oakfeller.
“Harry, what’re you doing?”
Harry started. “Er, nothin’!”
“Are you playing make believe with a stick and a bit of fuzz!?”
Harry blushed. “I’m just… Just practicin’ my ‘magination!”
This story was based on a title suggested by Master Gunner.
There was a man at the corner with one third of a hat and half a pair of shoes. I offered him my boots. He sold them to a homeless guy for ten bucks and gave the money to a woman at a bus stop.
I really liked those boots…
He stood there on the corner, with tattered hat and coat. His backpack overflowed with toys that he was handing out.
His shoes were only halfers: they covered just his heels. I offered mine, but he declined, ungrateful little eel.
He made me feel guilty, and guilt is not genteel.
This story, and the supplementary poem, were inspired by a title suggested by @hexapodium.