Lost Boys and Lost Toys

Glass

Glass.

It was evil.

Woody knew that now.

Glass broke.

Glasses emptied.

Glass saw nothing.

If you wanted to see the glass half full, you had to let yourself be empty.

But he didn't want to be empty anymore.

This was all so exhausting. One thing after another. Wasn't it supposed to be easy being a toy?

Woody had heard about toys that didn't come to life at all. Toys that were fed up wit the rough hard world and left it for good.

And he heard about toys that broke with it.

Woody was tired of all the emotions and hurt and confusion and decisions. He could see why those toys became nothing but...toys.

This glass was different.

This glass had been the most important person in the world too him.

More important than Andy or Bonnie or...Buzz.

He used to hate Buzz.

Woody often wondered about that. Why should he label someone as the most important to him?

It would only lead to hurt.

And glass toys were the most fragile...with their glass heats....

her glass heart had stopped for good. She was never to be fixed.

Woody heard a truck coming up behind him. He didn't care. Crush him too. Why, all those years ago, had he thought becoming a Lost Toy was a good idea?

A hand wrapped around him. Questioning voices were heard. Woody was limp.

Soon, he was snug in a warm car seat.

He could hear car noises.

He could see nothing.