Mum’s Vase

I am placed on mum's bedside table.

‘Ha, ha!’ laugh the children.

I hear footsteps coming closer and closer, loud and fast.

The younger brother bumps into the bedside table. Crash!

A loud, glass-shattering sound echoes as I hit the floor.

The children panic and run around the house trying to find a way

to fix me. They grab tape, wire and superglue.

Then they try the tape and wire but they leave obvious marks

on my green hourglass body. Their last option is superglue.

They carefully glue the vase together, piece by piece.

They couldn't remove it even if they wanted to.

Mum walks in, they turn pale hoping she won't notice.

She sees me and hugs me. The children look confused.

Mum says,‘The vase has scars. Even though

it’s been through stuff, it’s now more beautiful.’