When you’re working hard on your novel, or writing an article, or short story, do you ever find your mind going off at a tangent, and all sorts of quirky ideas start rushing in? I was writing a short story, which was actually quite serious in nature when, bizarrely, the following children’s tale came into my mind, demanding to be written…
Eddie and Teddy
When Eddie met Teddy, he knew it was love.
And when Teddy met Eddie, he knew it was love, too.
“A toy of my very own!” cried Eddie.
“A cat of my very own!” cried Teddy.
Eddie held Teddy tightly.
And Teddy held Eddie right back.
“Let’s play, Teddy,” said Eddie.
“Yes, let’s, Eddie,” said Teddy.
Eddie and Teddy played together.
Games of chase and catch, games of fling and toss.
Poor Teddy grew so dirty.
But each day Eddie loved Teddy more.
And each day Teddy loved Eddie more, too.
Eddie and Teddy raced round the garden.
Scrambling up trees and climbing high, swinging up and jumping down.
“Let’s roll around, Teddy,” said Eddie.
“Yes, let’s, Eddie,” said Teddy.
Poor Teddy grew so torn.
But each day Eddie loved Teddy more.
And each day Teddy loved Eddie more, too.
Then one day, Eddie couldn’t find Teddy.
He sulked and sobbed. Sobbed and sulked.
How Eddie missed Teddy.
Then one morning, Eddie awoke to find Teddy sitting right there.
“Teddy!” cried Eddie.
“Eddie!” cried Teddy.
Eddie held Teddy tightly.
And Teddy held Eddie right back.
“You’re clean, Teddy,” said Eddie.
“And all sewn up, Eddie,” said Teddy.
Eddie grinned at Teddy.
And Teddy grinned at Eddie, too.
“We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we? Come on, let’s play, Teddy,” said, Eddie.
“Yes, let’s, Eddie,” said Teddy.
Eddie and Teddy. Teddy and Eddie. The best of friends.
***
Image credit: animals.desktopnexus.com
Esther Chilton 
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