A story for the kid
who lost something.

On the night Iris could not find her bear, she could not sleep. The bear was named Bear. He had been with her since she was a baby. He was, by this point, mostly held-together by love and a small amount of thread. He was, tonight, somewhere in the house. But not in the bed. Her mama came in. "Can't find Bear?" Iris nodded. Her mama sat down. "Sometimes," she said, "the things we love go on small trips without telling us. They come back. Bear has been with you for four years. He knows the way home." Iris was not sure about this. But her mama's voice was so calm, and the night was so quiet, and her eyes were so tired, that she let her mama's version be the version, for now. The night kept doing its job. The bear, wherever he was tonight, was doing his. And soon, so was Iris.