At Home: The Tiger Bird....part 3

Have you ever held your breath? Held it because you were too afraid to take in the next sip of air. Held it because for some reason the thought of taking that breath had become the last thought on your mind.

Your thoughts so filled, filled, filled up with mind filling thoughts. Thats how it was for the boy. Puzzles beyond puzzles. Tricks played upon tricks. The only thing that would fix or hold the game in his head still was that box.

The box held more then a rusty needle pointing one way and the other. Its held the most important thing of all. The shiny brass tin , held the fingerprints and memories of the soft hand that last passed it to him. The tin, when he held it tight gave him the strength to go forward. Her energy was still in it, he knew that. That was her assurance that she was still with him.

The boy, just daren't open his eyes. The dream of holding the box was more alive than daring to open his eyes again. The fear of the struggle should he wake would be harder than the warm world inside his dream. Waking meant choosing to take that next breath. Daring to take that breath. Being brave enough to take on the world again...

(Damn blip deadline....will add to this once I blipped!)...(this is part 3...follow from 2 days ago! )