Once upon a time, in the land of sunshine and thunderstorms, there stood a house. There was nothing particularly interesting about the house. It was an old house on a hill overlooking a small town. It was surrounded by dandelions and wildflowers and stood silent and alone on its aforementioned hilltop.
Inside, the house was what one would expect from a house. It had doors and windows, it had rooms, cupboards, and shelves. It had a kitchen with an oven and stovetop. It even had a bathroom. The house was neat and uncluttered and smelled faintly of old furniture. What one wouldn’t expect from such a house, was that no one lived in it.
The house had been content to watch the town from above, separate from the noise and mess that accompanied people wherever they went. But on a fine Spring morning, the house decided that something was missing. It was the 27th of August when the house breathed life into a little wisp of boy.
“Hello little ghost boy,” creaked the house.
The little ghost boy opened his little ghost eyes and yawned with his little ghost mouth.
“Where am I?” asked the ghost boy eyes wide as he looked around.
“You are home,” said the house. “And today is your birthday.”
The ghost boy was elated as he ran through the house giggling in his little ghost voice. He had a home, and he had a birthday! What a lucky little ghost boy he was. He ran through the rooms, and through the kitchen, and into the bathroom. He opened all the cupboards and blew the dust from the shelves as he passed them. He heated the oven, and he played on the stovetop. And the house watched contentedly as the ghost boy explored every nook and cranny of its interior.
“Since it is your birthday, I shall give you a gift,” laughed the house as it opened the front door.
The ghost boy squealed in delight as he flew through the door and went out into the sunshine. The sun was warm, and the wind was pleasant. The birds chirped and sang in the trees. Bees buzzed, bodies flecked with yellow, stopping only to kiss the wildflowers. The ghost boy floated along with the breeze, he sat in the trees and sang with the birds, and he kissed the wildflowers like the bees. The ghost boy was happy, and he was free, so free that he rolled all the way down the hill…
“Oof!” The ghost boy had tumbled to the foot of the hill. As he opened his little ghost eyes once again, he was greeted by the sight and sounds of the town. “How wonderful,” thought the ghost boy as he looked around. What a lucky little ghost boy! For today, on his birthday, the town faire was being held. Raised voices, and laughter, mingled with whispers of people further than the ghost boy could see. Delicious smells lingered in the air, mixing with the sweat of warm bodies.
“Hello little boy, who smells of sunlight and wildflowers, are you lost?”
The little ghost boy looked up into the smiling eyes of a woman. “Hello, I am a ghost boy and today is my birthday!”
The woman laughed like music, cacophonous and wild. “Then I shall give you a gift,” she offered. The woman led the little ghost boy to the storefront of a patisserie. The little ghost boy looked on in anticipation as the woman selected a frosted cake decorated with candies and chocolate lettering which said, “Happy Birthday.” The woman and the ghost boy shared the cake with the baker. They drank tea which smelled of honey and they laughed, and they talked, and they sang. The ghost boy talked about his house, with its rooms and garden. He talked about the hill and of arriving in town. The woman listened with loving eyes that never left his face, and when the cake was done sadly said goodbye and wished the ghost boy on his way.
The ghost boy, filled with sweetness and talk, walked further into the town where he came upon a group of boys roughhousing in the square.
“Hey, you who smells of cake and candy, what are you looking at?” demanded one of the boys. He was larger than the rest, and dirty.
“Hello, I am a ghost boy and today is my birthday!” smiled the ghost boy.
The boy walked up to the ghost boy and held out his hand. “Since today is your birthday, I shall give you a gift.” In his hand there lay a yoyo. The ghost boy grinned as he had never seen such a thing before. The boy led him back toward the other boys and introduced him as his best friend. The ghost boy had a best friend! What a lucky little ghost boy! The boys caroused and rolled in the dirt. They played a ball game and tested their bravery by climbing walls and walking along high places. Finally, the boys waved goodbye as split up to go home.
The ghost boy, filled with cheer and vigour, walked further into the town.
“Oh dear, you smell of dust and sweat.” A couple looked down at the ghost boy, the woman crinkling her nose.
“Hello, I am a ghost boy, and today is my birthday!” The ghost boy smiled up at them, cheeks smeared with grime.
“Alright,” laughed the man, “since it’s your birthday I shall give you a gift.” The couple led the little ghost boy to a stream. The clear water gushed over the rocks and small fish hid amongst the reeds. The little ghost boy splashed and gurgled in the water, washing away the scent of wildflowers and candy, and of dirt and sweat. The couple watched him frolic as they lounged on the bank. When he was done the woman wrapped him in a blanket and he sat between them as they spoke softly at each other. The little ghost boy had found comfort and guidance. What a lucky ghost boy!
As the day wore on and the sun started to set, the couple led the ghost boy to the foot of the hill. They waved farewell, as he floated slowly toward his home.
The house opened its door to welcome the weary ghost boy inside. “And how was your birthday little ghost boy? You smell of clear water and soft clothing.”
The little ghost boy smiled up at the house, “It was wonderful! I found sweetness, and friendship, and comfort outside. Why do you stay here away from the people?”
The house sighed thoughtfully and responded, “Now that you’re here little ghost boy, I shall never be alone.”
And the little ghost boy yawned with his little ghost mouth and rubbed his little ghost eyes with his little ghost fingers. “I’m home,” he said, as he closed his little ghost eyes and fell asleep.
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