A Little Story

2007-05-23, 10:47 p.m.
First Draft: Not finished yet

The boy came in. She was sitting on the floor and she looked sad.

�What�s up?� he said �What are you doing?� She moved aside to let him see. �It�s a puzzle� she said.

�A puzzle of what?�
�I�m not sure. There�s no picture.� She held up a brown cardboard box. It had been tied with string but was as plain as plain could be. �I think it�s us�.

The boy knelt down for a closer look. �Yes� he said, �Yes. Its you and me. Look! There�s you and this bit�s me.�

�But there�s pieces missing.� The girl looked down at the puzzle, shaking her head. Her lips compressed into a tight line. �I don�t think I can finish it.� She stared at the little holes in the puzzle. �I dont think it�� look very nice like this, with all these holes in it.�

�Shove up� said the boy. �I�m good at puzzles.� He sat cross-legged on the floor beside her and looked hard at the puzzle.

He ran his hands across the floor, in case the pieces were camouflaged by the carpet. His eyes darted this way and that and his brow furrowed.

He picked up the box and shook it. There was no sound, but he took the lid off anyway and looked inside for missing pieces. �They�re not there.� Said the girl, �I�ve looked.�

The boy took another look at the puzzle. �It kind of looks OK, doesn�t it?� he said, but he looked at the girl and he knew that it kind of wasn�t. He smiled a crinkled-up smile at the girl. �C�mon,� he said �I�ll help you look.�

The boy jumped to his feet and reached down to the girl�s hand. She took it and he pulled her up. �Here�s one!� he said, as she stood up �It was here all along.�

It was the piece with their fingers all twined together, like they did when they had nothing else to do but hold each others hands.

How strange that they had both looked and looked but had found the first piece when they looked together.

�Oh, thank you!� said the girl. She was standing very close and her hand was on the boy�s chest. She looked confused for a moment, and then her fingers were in the pocket of his shirt, drawing out another puzzle piece. It was the piece where his eyes were shining through making the girl happy.

Kneeling on the sofa with their backsides waggling in the air and their arms down between the cushions they found the pieces which turned their half-smiles into beams of silliness and fun.

The boy found some of the best pieces when they went into the kitchen. The girl made a snack and found the piece which was the boy�s appreciation of the things she did for him, things that had gone unnoticed in times before. The boy rummaged in the kitchen drawer and found some pieces that were so precious to the girl, all wrapped and tangled up with a photo of him playing with the kids and some instructions for some things he�d made for her

�How about amongst all those boxes of junk we brought with us when we moved here?� asked the girl, �The stuff from before?�
�I don�t think there�ll be anything useful amongst that lot, but if we move it, maybe we�ll find some pieces of us underneath?�

The junk was heavy and hard to move and some of it wouldn�t be budged, but they found a piece of the boy�s dreams and a piece of his strength of mind. The girl found a tiny piece of self-esteem propping up a huge swaying pile of junk and baggage and bad stuff in boxes and the boy took a hard piece of pain and, quick as a flash, swapped them over. The pile of boxes and baggage and junk was still there, but the tiny piece of puzzle was saved. The boy blew the dust from it and wiped it on his shirt. The piece was almost as good as new.

When they were tired, the boy and the girl took a bath and went to bed. They found a piece of shyness and a piece of uncertainty but they were pieces from another puzzle. They didn�t fit anywhere. The boy and the girl put them to one side. �We don�t need those.� they said.

�I�m sure we�ll find some more pieces in the morning. We�ll look together until we find them all. Goodnight my love.�
�Goodnight�




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