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The Fall and Rise of Mr Bigglesworth

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Henry hugged Ashley close, the remnants of her stuffed toy scattered by their feet. Fat tears rolled down her flushed face as she haltingly recounted the adventure and eventual demise of her bunny. “And then- and then– The tracer cat killed Mr Bigglesworth!”

“Its ok Ashley,” he offered consolingly.

“Its not! My Mr Bigglesworth’s dead!” Fighting out of his arms, Ashley ran away in the direction of her room.

Stooping down, Henry picked up the leftover tatters of the plush bunny decimated by the cat like abnormal. An idea came to mind. He just hoped Biggie could help him.

“Hey Ash? Can I come in?” Henry asked through her door. She’d been hidden in her room most of the weekend, only coming out for dinner. Her answer just about carried through the door. Taking a steadying breath, squeezing the prettily wrapped gift, he opened the door. “You ok?”

“No,” she replied morosely. “I can’t find Mr Bigglesworth’s body.”

Henry nodded. “Maybe this could make you ok again?” He handed her the gift, feeling a bit awkward, standing around holding nothing.

Her gasp as she opened the present washed away the weird feeling. “Mr Bigglesworth! How?”

Henry shrugged. “Biggie helped me fix him. You looked really sad.”

“This is awesome!” She flung her arms around his waist, the newly stitched and stuffed toy clamped tightly in her hand. “Thank you so much! I will never forget this!”

“Eh,” he said, hugging back, “you’re like my little sister. As if I’d let Mr B stay dead.”

A few seconds later, after unwrapping her arms from around him, she looked at him challengingly and said, “Last one to the kitchen’s a stink butt!” before dashing out the door.

Henry grinned. “Wait for me!”