Fluffy the Tortoise
When I was a little girl, I had a pet tortoise. I named it ‘Fluffy’ because I always wanted a pet named Fluffy (furthermore I had no authority to name pets, my brother always gets to name our cats)
We had 2 tortoises as a matter of fact. One for me, one for my brother. We kept them in this container and it was kinda high so they can’t flip over. One day, I went to visit Fluffy and it’s buddy but there was only one tortoise in it. I asked my brother,
“What happened to Fluffy? I can’t see him!”
“Fluffy ran away” he said
Fluffy is a tortoise so it couldn’t have gotten far. So little me searched high and low for it but to my dismay, it simply vanished.
So a few days ago, I told this story to my cousin. While I was telling the story, I found myself stopping mid-sentence as a huge wave of realization crashed into me. Fluffy didn’t run away.
My brother hid the truth from me to protect my feelings.