You were a Fox when I met you. That’s what the photo album with insanely smiley teddy bears says. How old were you then? 4? We both looked so excited and clueless that day. The faces of Father Christmas, Cinderella and unicorn believers.
Decades have passed. I still see you as a Fox. Your fur is more fluffy these days and your eyes play different tune. Wiser and more mellow. Must be nice to be in your world.
I’m trying to remember if we ever spoke about our dreams when growing up. We put lots of effort building sofas for barbies and putting together Lego houses. Yours always looked so chic. You were able to play with blues and greens, yellows and reds like I could never do.
I remember how we would run carefree stealing apples from neighbours to feed the excitement. We would play outside for hours, eat snow when tired and hold hands if funny objects passed the sky thinking it could be the aliens from wonderland marking the new millennium.
Today you are more like a poppy or a carefree sunflower. Your colours are too bright not to be a beautiful flower. I hope you keep watering yourself and do not lose hope. Never stop playing with blues, greens and yellows. Stay magnificent and have fun!