The Hand Works (Reddith83r)

An energetic ball of fluff is barreling around her owner as quickly as her stumpy little legs can take her. She’s squealing and giggling at the amusement that’s only evident to her.

But her owner is back! He was gone for the foreverest part of a forever, but came back just before the scary dark-time to be with her like he always did during the work week.

The fluffy was as dense as ever and did not perceive the worn demeanor of the salary man. His eyes stared distantly in the foyer of his home, as blank as the rest of his expression. One could mistake the sagging of his skin for some indication of a frown, but they would be wrong. The man was just that tired, and although he wanted nothing more than to lie down and meld with the silence to contemplate rest and the duties yet to be addressed, he was aware of an intrusion at the edge of his awareness.

It was worsening the onset migraine that threatened to lock his brain in a vice and tighten the load until the blood vessels in his eyes split along their lengths and seep.

The man dropped into a squat where he stood, much to the protest of his dapper gray suit, the seams of which all but demanded a predetermined range of movement. “Maybell,” he spoke softly, “please go play with your toys in your pen; I will open it up for you.”

“Nu wan pway wif toysies! Wan daddeh! Wan daddeh be-cuz daddeh bestest daddeh an’ onwy fam-my Maybewe hab afta lit-wul mummah and daddeh 'peshaw fwend–”

The man clenched his teeth and pulled in a tense, but overall silent breath to steady himself after feeling that indignant sting. It hadn’t been long enough for his damaged pride to heal. He was distantly conscious that the pain may never go away.

“Maybell, please. I have been through much, and I need some time alone to get my head straight.”

Maybell was adamant. “Daddeh gib Maybeww huggies and wub! Ma’e beddah! Maybeww wan daddeh, Maybeww hab scawedies and heawt huwties fwom bein’ awone…”

The fluffy prattled on. Despite the passion and unusual conviction in her little voice, the words lost their definition in her owner’s frazzled mind. They become a droning hum of platitudes. The man pinched his nose.

He defaulted to simply ignoring the fluffy’s deluge. He strode into the next room and went to his fluffy’s play pen. Maybell waddled after him, lagging several paces behind and quickly winding herself. Fluffies were not speedy creatures already, and Maybell losing precious oxygen to her rapid manner of speech was seriously dampening her locomotion. Even with her stamina depleting and her thoughts progressively shifting to how mean her daddy was being, Maybell balked at him opening her play pen.

Her explanation for why she wanted to spend time with her owner switched tack with surprising fluidity by fluffy standards. “Nu daddeh! Nu! Nu wan be in penny! Wan daddeh! Daddeh! Daddeh!”

The words came between panting breaths. Soon Maybell was by her owner’s ankles, and she was tuckered out physically and emotionally. She needed her daddy to help her feel better!

However, instead of pets and pats, Maybell felt her owner’s shoe press into her hide and then shove her inside the enclosure. She yelped from the surprise. By the time that she picked herself off of the floor and turned to face her owner, the pen’s gate was locked!


Maybell huffed between the screams.

Her owner stared down coldly at her, unfazed by her outburst. Maybell shuddered, partly from realizing what she had done, and partly because of her daddy’s lack of reaction. It was like he did not care about her feelings!

“Huu… sowwy for meanie yewwin–” Maybell attempted to apologize. In the next instant, the sharp pain of a slap across her face registered. It made her bite her tongue, and knocked her off her hooves to one side.

The sniffling and crying were immediate. Through her vision, distorted and broken by the light refracting in her tears, Maybell saw her owner turn his back on her. Just like how his special friend and not-quite-a-baby did.

Maybell stuffed a hoof in her mouth and poured her sorrows out of her eyes. Over the next minutes she felt more that half her face become taut with swelling. The bruise was obscured by her coat.

All her owner cared for was that the fluffy had quieted herself.

The hand works wonders.


have you noticed that everyone put their names in the title?


El done




Those feelings of hurt and betrayal are great.

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