The Toy Chest
Jan 9th, 2012 by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
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Brian wasn’t sure how it happened, whether it was the Christmas wish just before his father’s death, or the aftereffects of some magical spell uttered generations before in his attic, but every night, when his mother wasn’t around, his toys came alive.
The stuffed bears and jungle cats. The toy soldiers. The plastic dinosaurs and the racing cars.
His life was now a living hell. He didn’t mind the work itself, but the beatings and tongue-lashings were, to his mind, excessive. If only the toys would tell him what they wanted in a calm manner, he’d finish everything without complaint.
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