Deux petits amis en argile assis tranquillement sur un bureau

The Friend Who Stayed There were two little friends made of clay. They sat on a desk near the window, side by side. One was shaped like a smiling cat. The other was a small person with no mouth, only eyes. They were made on the same day, by the same hands. When the hands pressed too hard, the clay person cracked a little. The cat noticed, but never said anything. Every day, the sun warmed them. Every night, the room grew cold. They didn’t move, but they felt time passing. One day, the hands came back. The smiling cat was picked up first. “You’re still perfect,” the voice said. The clay person waited. The cat was taken away, placed somewhere bright and safe. The clay person stayed on the desk, watching the empty space where their friend used to be. Days passed. Dust covered the desk. The clay person’s crack grew wider. No one noticed. One night, the clay person fell off the desk. When they hit the floor, they broke into pieces. No one heard. The next morning, the smiling cat sat on a shelf, still smiling. The clay person was swept away, never fixed, never remembered. But if the cat could move, it would have stopped smiling. Because the friend who broke was the one who stayed.