He thought it sounded alright, in the beginning, but that was before the reality that it wasn’t only him, from here on out, had really set in, being that he was only four at the time and had no clue what it meant to always have to share.
It was nice when it was only the three of them, he thought now, as he spent all day in bed, home sick from school with a nasty cold – worse than he’d ever felt and that meant no recesses with friends, extra homework later, and nothing but a heavy feeling of fatigue and what felt like continuous coughing and sneezing attacks.
He vaguely remembered the fun the three of them used to have, before things changed with arrival of that pain in the butt, as he liked to say, and the day he went to school knowing one thing and coming home to a whole new life.
His toys always missing on him, Lego towers toppled over, just as he could imagine them reaching the sky and there was never an apology, at least never one that seemed to last and before he knew it, another part of his life had to be shared with a second person, as his parents always said to share.
Then, as he looked up from his fuzzy recollections of the past and from his wallowing, there he noticed a cookie and a glass of milk sitting on his bedside table, with a note: “snack for you xo”.
He grinned through a coughing fit and knew exactly who this get-well-soon surprise came from, wishing he knew where its deliverer was so they could share the snack – after all, breaking a cookie in half and sharing wasn’t so bad.
I decided to join this here weekly blogging/writing challenge finally, to write a story in only six sentences, after reading this intriguing one from a few weeks back:
Six Sentence Stories – Beneath the Surface
The lovely Ivy hosts this one and comes up with the word every Thursday.
I was inspired this week, by this particular word, for good reason. This story is fictional, but based on some very real events, taking place today actually. The word “second” just fit the day. Sooooo exciteed here, but can’t really say a lot yet. I may be writing this morning and holding onto it until I think it’s safe.