Home Again

April 1, 2008
By Ashely Wiley, Mattawan, MI

My owner, a human from the walking world, stuck me in a cuddly, leather home with my other friends. He closed the home up and stuck it in his pocket, and we were off for the day. With every step he took we bounced up and down like a trampoline as I clutched to the side of the home with all my might. We soon stopped bouncing and our home opened up like a yawning door. My owner took me out and I observed the scenery. It was very cold outside. There was little specks of white falling from a big splot of blue above us. It was cold and the wind whipped my face, the white specks drenching me, making me freezing. It melted into water when it touched my body. There were not any other owners from what I could see. It was sorta vacant. The only people I saw were my owner and someone standing in front of my owner. The person was standing in front of a cart. The person standing in front of a cart took me with cold hands, and put me in a large box, black and dark, and closed the lid.

Soon I made many friends in the box. There was always new people who came in and there was also people always leaving. The lid to the box opened and light came in as he grabbed me with cold hands. I took in the scenery. There was a bright yellow and orange ball like thing in the sky. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue. The ground was all dirt with little grass and there were trees everywhere. My new owner took me with warm hands. He folded me up and I was stuck in a pocket. Soon thankfully he took me out and I engulfed big breaths in and out of nice clean air. I have never been so glad to breathe air in my life.

It was very beautiful. There was a green coastal area with a great view of the ocean. The wind whirling, I was slammed into a hand a man standing in front of me. He looked strangely familiar, but I could not put my finger on it. I was put inside of a home that was made of leather. Once I was inside I realized that it was pretty cuddly and comfortable. Then someone else was put into the home with me. I recognized the dollar as my old friend. We talked about all the things that we saw while we were apart. Then our home opened up and our owner reached inside and pulled my friend out. I looked at the owner then I realized why he looked familiar. He was my first original owner that I ever had. I gave him my I-knew-that-I-would-find-you-soon look. I was home again.

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