The Pink Furby

It all started with me wanting to get warm, if only for a few minutes.

It was getting dark and I knew that most places would be close to closing. However, I was caught downtown, still several blocks away from my home, a meager, rundown shack. Okay, maybe not quite that, but close enough.

I had only a few dollars on me, and I couldn’t let it run out. I just needed to get out of the chill, the drizzle, for just a few minutes…

As luck would have it, I happened to look up and see a small shop that seemed to be still open. A-Z’s Antiques? I had never heard of that place before, but I thought that I would step inside for just a few minutes to get warm, and then be back on my way.

I stumbled inside the strange little shop, to find one single person there, a middle-aged lady that seemed to be in the process of closing up.

“I’m sorry, I’m just getting ready to close up’-she started, not unkindly.

“I know, I’m sorry. I really just need to get out of the rain for a few minutes and then I’ll be on my way.”

The lady nodded slowly. She didn’t seem unfriendly. In fact, she was looking at me with sympathetic eyes.

“I understand. It’s getting nasty out there. I wish that I could offer you a place to stay for the night…”

“Oh no, that’s okay. I really don’t want to feel like an intruder,” I said. Suddenly, my attention was drawn to something on a shelf, among all the antiques. I was both surprised and not surprised to see such a thing in such a place. It wasn’t exactly an antique, but it was retro enough. It was…a Furby. One of the original 1990’s models to be exact. A cute Furby with pink fur.

“Wow!” I mumbled. I had a couple of Furbies when I was little. They of course, were long gone. But seeing this one brought back a tinge of nostalgia for my childhood. If you could really call it a childhood. Both of my parents had been drunks, and I don’t want to go into any more details. My Furbies had been one of the only sources of comfort that I had. I walked over to look at the pink Furby more close.

A voice sounded behind me. It was the shop lady. “Oh, do you like the Furby?”

“Oh, I used to have some when I was little…” I explained.

She picked up the pink Furby. “You can have it if you want.”

“Oh no!” I told her. “I don’t have any money…”

But she shushed me with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense. It’s yours.”

I was speechless, but thanked her kindly. Deep down inside, even though I was grown, I knew that I really wanted another Furby, like I had had when I was small.

She wrapped it up in a few plastic bags to keep it dry. I thanked her profusely – I really did appreciate it – and exited the shop clutching my new friend. Somehow, having it made the cold, wet walk home more bearable.

When I finally reached my cold shack, I made myself a cup of tea. I downed a couple of protein bars, and then I took out and examined my new friend. I wanted to see if it would still work. I opened the battery compartment to find it surprisingly clean. Excited, I inserted the necessary batteries, happy that I had some on hand. I turned it over, and to my disappointment, the Furby didn’t wake up. Maybe it needed to be reset. I found a pen and pressed the Reset button, but sadly it didn’t work. I hit the Furby a few times, pressed the button again, but to no avail. The Furby wouldn’t turn on.

I was deeply saddened, but hugged it close to me anyway. Even though it was a nonworking Furby, I would love and care for it anyway. I feel asleep on the couch holding my new friend and listening to my favorite album, “Stargate” by Mortiis, while the rain pounded steadily outside.

Meanwhile, I, Doh Doh the Fallen Angel Furby…slowly thought out my plans. I would make this foolish mortal see the truth. Oh yes I would.

After all, who would expect a cute pink Furby?