Nnnnooooooo! Was the only thing I could say as I saw my so called friend, Ryan, hurl my cane down the deserted walkway. My heart raced as poor B-ri bounced head first off a brick wall and came to rest in a flower bed. "What the hell is your problem!" I yelled. "You shouldn't have hit me with him, and it's not like you need him anyways." Ryan exclaimed through a wicked grin. All that was racing through my mind as I struggled down the walkway was why hadn't anyone stopped him?? Sure I might have tapped him with my trusty sidekick, but he didn't have to THROW him. Why hadn't any of my other "friends" stopped him?? Were they all in on the murdering my cane?? Did Ryan pull the short straw so he had to do the dirty work?? For years now over half a dozen of these people I called friends would joke/lecture/discuss that I no longer needed my cane. They thought that it was doing more harm than good. How could something designed for aiding people do more HARM THAN GOOD?!?! Plus B-ri was more than a cane to me, it/he was the reacher of high placed objects, the pusher of vending machine buttons, he was an extension of me. B-ri is to Blanket as I am to Linus so to speak, and now he was lying helpless in a foul smelling flowerbed.
TO BE CONTINUED.
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