i mentioned how i thought i'd write another book, of short stories this time, called 'the toyroom'..
some notes so far:
the lost toys
in the stillness of the neglected closet, a small sound in the darkness breaks the long grey silence,
as the lid of the box is pressed open & slips away, & the old toys emerge one by one onto the shelf.
the soldier in his uniform, his arms only a memory, his ears forever ringing, & the rope still tied & hanging from his neck, which was such a feat in itself to accomplish,
left in front of his proud uniform like a badge of his shame.
it was slow going for the little wooden train engine, his wheels giving little traction on even the slightest of inclines..
the forgotten birthday bear, with his birthday pin on, he felt he could lead the way, to where? they didn't know..
the broken clown, his face painted with a smile, whether he wanted to or not, making light of the dreary circumstance..
the doll did not speak, for she was mute, but her head was nevertheless filled with Everything, everything she couldn't say, everything spinning around & around over & over, everything.. everything..
the grey mouse made not a sound.
if they could make it north, to the workshop of santa claus? he might be able to help them.
they had no campfire
but they sat around the heart, the heart in ice.. why was it here?
wishing on the stars..
what do you think?
p.s. new at the ghost gallery rowsofneveropeneddoors ~ afterthoughts