“We’ve built a car!” they had sung. It must have been years, but the time we passed together made them fly. We flew together. Everywhere we went people would look, stare, laugh. But we never minded, we had each other and we were happy.
I used to flatter myself that I wasn’t just an object to them. I was loved. I held memories in my possession, beautiful instances in life that I clutched within me, not letting them flash by. And they loved me for it.
Or so I thought. But now here I am, forgotten, betrayed, ridiculed and disillusioned.
Every Wednesday I visit Friday Fictioneers and scroll down as fast as my slow internet connection would let me. Anticipation rises within me as the picture for the week comes closer. Then I see it. I gasp. Then stare at it for long minutes. I sit silent and I ponder. The little story then starts to bud, tickling my imagination with shallow roots that grown longer as the day passes…
I’m tired, forgive me! I hope you like this one.