August 7, 2016

rag doll

In a secret hollow deep in the great mound of trash on the edge of town, Maisie, the rag doll, called a meeting of all the abandoned toys. The toys worked their way through shoals of bent wire hangers and around innumerable tires and over crusty crumpled scattered newspapers to heed her call.

When all the toys had assembled and settled, a bent music box called out, ‘Well, what is it, Maisie?’

‘We ought to leave this pile of garbage and live somewhere else,’ announced Maisie.

Toys with eyes rolled them. The most vocal toys said, ‘Duh.’ A stuffed serpent said, ‘Well, obviously. But where can we go and how can we get there?’

‘I have a plan,’ said Maisie.

Silence. The abandoned toys listened, motionless.

‘Let’s make a wish,’ Maisie continued.

Hubbub. Moaning. ‘Oh, great.’ ‘Sure.’ ‘Fine. Excuse me while I go back under my broken chair.’

‘I WISH WE COULD LIVE IN A CARPETED PALACE WHERE WE COULD SING AND DANCE AND SLEEP OR NOT AND TALK AND PLAY GAMES OR NOT FOREVER!’ Maisie shouted to be heard over the noisy retreat of the disappointed toys.

Three magic sprites flitting above the trash mound on their way to a brook party heard Maisie’s cry and shrugged why not? one at the other and the other. Fast as fast and twice as quick, the abandoned toys found themselves in a carpeted dream palace of their own where they happily ever aftered ever and after.

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