The back door opens. Footsteps echo through the hall to our room. Slowly the door opens.
‘’Surprise!’’ We all chorus in unison, the cake knife is handed to her. I look to my wife. It was my own special recipe. I hope it tastes good enough for and her family and her friends. I hope the slice she takes tastes the best though. I want her to have the best in life of course. In my personal opinion the next part was the best, everyone taking a bite at the same time expecting me to take a picture. The evidence should never and will never exist. I haven’t spoken to the family since, I’m glad they were as dull as the walls in which I live.
Cold as the metal pipe.
Faded and wilted as the flowers.
Lifeless as the dolls.
Taken by the wind.
Moral: Be happy with what you have and don’t let what you don’t have take over your life.