Flash Fiction (Stories under 1000 words)

Favorite Words

I remember when we used to do everything together. 

When we would sit and do school, each word you sounded out in those little 5 page books, I sat in your lap and read them too. Then when we were done we’d go outside, and spin around till the world spun too. Then fall in the grass in fits of giggles. 

When it was dark we’d go inside. We’d watch cartoons, and drink juice, and yawn loudly. That’s when your mother would say it was time for bed. 

You’d carry me to your room, and hold me as you snored, and I felt comfort in your warmth. 

When you started leaving home for school you would take me too. I sat in your backpack until we got on the bus. Then you would pull me out and hold me, and smile as you thought about the day. 

You started making other friends. The close ones knew me, because you’d show me to them and smile saying, “She’s my favorite.” Those were my favorite words. 

You always needed me to sleep, but one day, I got lost. I heard your distress as I sat under the bed. The pain in your voice as you told your mother you would look just a little longer. You never found me that night, and it was cold under the bed. 

The next morning your mother found me, and with a smile placed me on the counter. You got home and squealed with delight at the sight of me. “Thanks mom!” you said. “She’s my favorite!” Those wonderful words again. 

I don’t remember how it happened, but one day I got lost again, and this time you didn’t look for me. You just went to bed on your own. Days went by and you still hadn’t found me. I watched your feet move back and forth from my place under the bed, as you read notes aloud, studying for your test. 

One day, when you were cleaning the room, and the vacuum roared loudly, you reached under the bed and pulled me out. You looked different than before, but you’re smile was still as beautiful as ever. You sat me on the shelf of your chest of drawers. On display for all to see. 

Today the room is almost empty. Boxes packed full of everything you’ll need for your new school. I’ve heard the talk between you and your mother. How you’re going far away, to a different school. It makes me sad to see you go, but I’m glad I got to see you grow. 

You notice me on the shelf as you pack your last box. You walk over and pick me up, and smile at the memories we’ve shared. Your mother enters the room and says, “Are you going to take that little horse.” She laughs at the ridiculousness of her own comment. But you look at me with kind eyes. Then you look to her. “Of course,” you answer. “She’s my favorite.”