A Skeleton in the Attic

Once upon a time, a little boy named Peter lived all
alone in a big dark house.

He was alone because one day his Mother went shopping for dinner and never came back.

Before she left, she warned Peter to stay away from the attic.

“That attic is full of dirty old skeletons,” she said.

Then she picked up her bag and waved goodbye.

Peter was a good little boy who always obeyed his Mother.

As he sat by the window and waited for her return, he
felt lonely and thought of the skeletons in the attic.

One day, Peter climbed the ladder into the attic.

The sight of the skeleton frightened Peter, so he sat on
a trunk far away and stared at its grimy bones.

One day, as if sensing the skeleton’s loneliness, Peter sat
next to it.

One day Peter reached out and touched the skeleton.

Peter asked the Skeleton how it died.

“I don’t remember.” The skeleton replied, “For a long time, I didn’t know I was dead.”

The skeleton chuckled, “Your generosity gives me hope.”

Peter and the skeleton became friends and Peter was happy.

For the rest of that year Peter and the Skeleton sat for talks in the attic and laughed.

The skeleton sighed, “It is the time for me to go back to being a dead skeleton, but your tears give meaning to my death. Thank you, Peter.”

“But I will be alone again.” Peter cried.

“No, my son,” the skeleton replied. “Now you can go out and play.”