If I can't find it, I'll have to learn to live without it. But could I?
Other people manage. Some people never have one to begin with. How horrible.
How do they manage at all? And yet... They seem to do all right.

I looked in the trash bin. I think that old lady thought I was a poor,
homeless person looking for food.

I searched all over the apartment. Under the bed. Under the sofa cushions.
In the bathroom. Where else can I look?

I ran down to the parking lot. It was an off chance, but maybe it was in
the car. Alas, not. Slowly, with heavy heart and dragging feet, I trudged back up
to the apartment. Maybe if I eat something... Yeah, right. Eat my sorrows away.

I open the refridgerator anticipating empty, cold calories.

"Teddy! How did you get in there?!?"

I pulled out the cold bear and my heart warmed.


I had too much fun at this site not to share it. I take credit only for the story above, but if you want to see how it might have been written, click here and copy the story into the text box there.

Pen The Wish Pen The Great Hunter
Pen Back Fast Fiction Pen Back to Poet's Pen
1998 F. Shafer Junaid