Genre - Short Story. You are on the page - 277
A boy has his heart in a box. On his chest is a small zipper. An old man lives with him. He has the key to the box around his neck, and will not give the boy his heart back. The boy feels no love or feelings, but the old man loves him. Why would he not let him have his heart? Why is it in a box in the first place?
Muriel Beagle was an awful piano teacher. An abomination! Thirty minutes - that's all she allotted per lesson, and most days she started late or was interrupted by one of her bratty kids bursting in unannounced. Lost time was never recouped on the back end of the lesson, and once, the music teacher even took a cell phone call and it wasn't an emergency. So unprofessional!
I have three words for you. Vincent. James. Tomoser. He's all I truly think about. And if it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't be who I am today. He makes me smile and laugh even though he doesn't see it. We used to be the best of friends and I wish we still were, but what he doesn't know cant hurt him.