Random Story

Enjoy. :)


I was slipping and I could do nothing to stop myself. I wanted to, but how much can a stuffed poodle do? Mia, my girl, turned over, and it was just enough to push me over. I, Fluffy, fell under the bed. Without a cry, without a scream, silently, I fell.


I lay under the bed, the darkness all around. I told myself over and over again that I would be all right and Mia would look for me in the morning.


The next morning, I expectantly waited. And waited. The sun squeezed through the little crack right above me while I continued to wait.  Slowly, night returned as well as the terrible darkness, and still, I was not found.



Months passed, and I patiently waited. Day by day, week by week, I sat there under the bed, my beautiful white fur collecting dust. All I had was the single hope of being looked for. What else could I hope for? What else could I do? I was a lost and forgotten toy.


A long year and a half passed, and on January 1st, 2012, I decided that I would stop keeping track of the days. I wanted to become what every adult thought me to be: just a stuffed dog. But, the thought of Mia’s love and tender care was what gave me back my hope. But, I did stopped counting the days.



Months later, I heard on of the many boxes around me being moved. Suddenly, there was light, all around! I wanted to close my eyes, but alas, I could not. A couple minutes later, I felt a hand touch my paw and I wished I could squeal. Was I finally going to be found? Ah yes, the hand wrapped around my leg and gently pulled me from the pile of dust. As I came up from the bottom, I gazed onto Mia’s face and felt joy for the first time in months. She was older now, much older. But still, it was my Mia.


“Oh, Fluffy!” she whispered, hugging me tight, and I knew I was officially found.


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