Promoted

Thank you.

I was once just an article of insignificance. Waiting in the glass case to be bought and kept forever in a glass case. I am an imitation of an animal but I rarely and barely resemble it. I am stuffed with cotton and have a faux velvet for my skin to give the appearance of being furry. I have beady eyes which never blink and stare into the void.

Yes you guessed it accurately. I am a stuffed animal. Meant to be shifted from one glass case to other, if not degraded more. The tales of my kind being degraded vary from teen girls using us to fight and little boys using us to practicing autopsy. The degradation just goes up from here.

But I have been promoted.

I am past the degree and valour of the stuffed animal that I actually am and always will be; but have been promoted to various levels of representation. This, is my tale.

I sat under the glass case and my siblings who were identical to me looked at the roof until; a lad with a goofy smile which spread from ear to ear and with a finger pointed to me and shook his head in a vigorous motion which threatened to drop his head off his shoulder. The owner of the shop reached luckily for me and handed me to the lad.

There was something in his touch that made me realize how my life has changed to a tale. He handled me with the care one handles a newborn. As if I was a structure made of ash. As if I am the paper of the dead sea scroll. And he looked at me with care and affection which seemed unnatural.

Once we were at his home he kissed my forehead and mumbled a feminine name. His Angel. She was far far away from her and he bought me to convey his affection to her. I am the messenger. I am his secret. I am his confidant. I am his friend that knows his deepest secret and I am the one who is going to reveal them to the one who owes to know it.

His Angel.

Tomorrow the wait ends. Mine and his and hers too. Tomorrow I will be transferred to the person who I was meant to be with. Tomorrow I will be gifted. His Angel will have me and metaphorically receive his embraces. All the times that he will say that he is hugging her, I will be hugged.

I am a token of love. I am a hug. I am a kiss. I am him. I am a story. I am love.

And tomorrow, is the day he will gift me to her. Thank you for promoting me, Al.

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