A new short story
Elliot James Johnson doesn’t have much. He has a ball, he has a bag to put the ball in when he takes it to the park. And he has hope. He is five years old, Elliot James Johnson. He spends his days alone, thinking what it might be for someone to look at him with eyes that sparkle and twinkle and shine with love.
That is all he wants, Elliot James Johnson.
The door slams, and his heart jumps. There is a growling and a smashing of glass, a shouting and a thudding, a screaming and a running of feet.
He backs up closer to the wall, this little boy. This little boy of hope and no love.
The creaking is getting louder, louder, louder. He wonders if the wardrobe will hide him, as it has hidden him before.
And he hopes
Elliot James Johnson.