Wallie

I don’t know if every child has a plush toy so important it is just not an option to loose it. I suppose many do. I did. Wallie, my little whale, always had to be there to be able to sleep. He has been in every bed, every tent and every car that I slept in. His first color was yellow. This was before my first birthday and before my mother had to repair him for the first time. I remember Wallie as turquoise, then pale blue and in the end as greyish brown. He is still there, not in my bed, but in the attic of my parents. His eyes are the only things keeping the fabric, which once was his body, together. These eyes caused me sleepless nights when I was about six years old. I chose them myself after Wallie had lost one of his eyes. These new ones were great, much better than the old ones; they could move. That night I couldn’t stop crying because Wallie looked nothing like he did before.

I am making whales these days. None of them resembles Wallie in any way, but they are soft and blue and their eyes can definitely not fall off.