The Broken Girl and The Clever Boy - Red

 

 

 

 

 

            Every day the Clever Boy, with his tiny mechanical feet, shuffled down the same cobblestone path. And every day the Clever Boy saw the same sights and turned the same turns and whistled the same song. And the Clever Boy was happy.

            Until one day something was different.

            The Clever Boy, whistling the same song, shuffling his tiny mechanical feet suddenly stopped. He saw a box. This was new. He approached it with caution. He saw an ordinary brown packing box full of gears and pieces. Next to this box was a sign: I CAN’T FIGURE HER OUT. MUST BE BROKEN - FREE.

            The Clever Boy turned his square head this way and that wondering why in the world anyone would discard such beautiful, shiny pieces. He gathered the box into his jointed copper arms and returned to shuffling his tiny mechanical feet, turning the same turns, and whistling the same song until he reached his home.

            Once the Clever Boy was home, he began to unpack the many shiny pieces. He laid them out gently and lovingly. It seemed as if everything was in order, so he decided he would reassemble the Broken Girl.

            Every day after his walk the Clever Boy would work on his Girl. The work was slow, but he was patient. And after a time, the Broken Girl no longer looked broken. However, it seemed as if a piece was missing after all. Luckily, the Clever Boy knew exactly what to do.

            He pinched the corner of his chest plate and pulled it open, exposing all the whirring cogs and gears. He reached in his chest and pulled out his Red metallic heart. He knew it would only hurt for a second, so he took a big mechanical breath and broke off a piece of it. He quickly put his heart back and closed the latch. He drove his tiny mechanical hand into the Broken Girl’s chest. He pulled back his hand and clutched it close to his chest. Then waited.

            A sputter.

            A clunk.

            A wheeze.

            And suddenly she wasn’t so broken anymore.

            So every day the Clever Boy, with his tiny mechanical feet, shuffled down the same cobblestone path. And every day the Clever Boy saw the same sights and turned the same turns and whistled the same song. And the Clever Boy was very, very happy because his Girl was holding his tiny mechanical hand.