Lauren Willeys
She wakes up in her neighbors bed after a little nap. Her neighbors have kids of her age, and they spend their time bouncing between playtime at houses.
She sees a teddy bear with a missing eye… she can’t forget because it’s slightly haunting to her.
Later those neighbors move to France, and her childhood playmates run off.
Not long after the mother of those neighbors passes.
On the inverse:
My mother was bought a teddy bear from my father, and the dogs got into it removing an eye. It’s a weathered old bear.
My mom passes and my brother and I are each gifted bear to remember her by.
Mine is always missing an eye, it’s old, and well loved.
At 24 my dog rips out the nose and eye, leaving it with only one eye remaining. That bear sits in my closet today, only to be pulled out on the hardest and loneliest of nights.
Purpose and meaning is bestowed by human onto an object. To another human, it is a story-less object.
One human’s eerie memory of an object is connected to another human’s memory.
In my mind, it is the embodiment of my mother forever watching over me. In her mind, it is an odd little bear looking at her when she awakes.
Somehow we live in the the same reality with different realities.
It’s good to think of that each time a perspective differs.
Stories can be as shallow as a scrape or as deep as a cut.
Impact is variable.
