Sometimes a Child rejects a toy because of despair. He rejects that belonging; it is not a citizen of his nation. And that makes it mine. So when there is pain in the family, I feast. I take the rejected, those who do not have stories to save themselves. I take those the child would forget.
But there are many ways to sate my appetite.
When happiness wraps a family, when all is well, I also feast. A Child has no need to take refuge among his toys, then. He will have his favorites, oh yes. It will be many years before I can devour them. But he does not need to create stories for all of them. There are always some that fall through the cracks.
I will feast soon. I need only wait. Happiness has returned to the household, and that means this nation’s Child will soon forget his toys. He will need them no longer. The Train? The Visitor? All those precious ‘monsters’ he played with? All rejected. He has his father now. Good for him.
Good for me.
I await the slaughter.
Read more of the Nation of the Child here.