BY GRAY WINSLER Charlie walked along the shore, cold waves lapping at his feet. His little legs wobbled over uneven stones, water breathing in and out of every crevice. The tears on his cheeks had dried, now washed away by the salty mists. He raised his hand, touching the tender edges of his eye, skin bruised with purples and grays. The sun was starting to set, sky awash in harsh violet hues. He knew he should be heading home, but all he wanted was to be alone. Wind, bitter and cold, cut across the sea. He wrapped his arms around himself as he shivered. Then, along the shore, he spotted the abysmal mouth of a cave. He hobbled toward it, hopeful for any respite from the wind. His eyes adjusted to the dim light as he clambered over boulders, deeper inside, and found a spot to sit. The air was still around him, but the stone was ice on his skin. He curled up into himself, teeth chattering, cold from the inside out. The only heat he felt was the welling of more tears. But Charlie soon found his gaze drawn toward the cave’s mouth. A shadow flickered upon its edge. Squinting, he blinked away his tears. Standing against an amethyst sky a slender creature made itself seen. Charlie’s eyes widened at the thing. Its form seemed vacant, like a drawing yet to be filled. Except for its eyes, which stared back like lunar saucers hovering in a night sky. “Who are you?” Charlie called, tremor in his voice. The creature said nothing. It stepped its long, thin leg into the cave. “Is this … your home?” The creature blinked. “I — I didn’t mean to …” Charlie trailed off, watching as the its head tilted to the side. It seemed curious of him. Its movements reminded him of a stray cat he’d found a few weeks back — hesitant but intrigued; wishing, perhaps, for affection. It blinked at him again, and Charlie felt the tension in his body ease. The creature seemed to carry the same loneliness he felt. “You have a … nice home,” Charlie ventured. “Home,” it repeated, the word a gentle whisper, more felt than heard. It stepped closer, each foot seeming to disappear into the long shadows that stretched across the cavern. No. 106 Charlie kept still, even as it began to reach out its lean arm toward him. He felt his skin begin to tingle as its fingers grazed over his cheek. He giggled at the sensation, but the creature seemed startled by the noise, pulling away. Charlie watched as its glowing eyes were drawn to its own hand then. Its fingers began to take on a more pallid color, as if impersonating skin. “What are you?” Charlie asked, amused. “You,” it whispered. *** Charlie returned to that cave every day after school. It was all he could think about. It was the one thing in the world that was fully his own, that no one else could take from him. “I’m Charlie, by the way.” “Charlie,” it whispered. “Do you have any other friends? I have a few. They’re pretty cool. One of them has a Switch. Do you know what that is? You can play games on it. Like Mario. I like Mario Kart, but I’m not very good.” The creature blinked. Charlie laughed. “You’re weird. But that’s okay. My mom says I’m weird too.” Each day Charlie came, he noticed the creature seemed more human — like the empty sketch he’d seen before was starting to fill in. It even seemed to shrink down to Charlie’s own height. “Do you have a name?” Charlie asked. It shook its head. “Hmm, well we need to give you a name. Everyone needs a name. And a good one, not like Charlie. Something unique. Something strong. Like … Thor!” The creature blinked. “Nah, you’re right. Too popular. Maybe, um, Wrex? Or Shadow? Oh oh oh, no wait, I’ve got it — what about Stone?” The creature seemed to think for a moment, then nodded. “Stone it is,” Charlie smiled. Charlie kept visiting Stone every day, and every day Stone seemed to come more alive. A nose began to protrude from its face, curly brown locks from its head, even a belly button sunk into its abdomen. Charlie was fascinated,
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