one hundred word story #53: Hold this

What if, every day, starting the day we were born, the world gave us something to hold? Pencils, pixie sticks, chickadees. We'd go everywhere holding things, hands so full that we'd give up introducing ourselves. Instead we’d trade things. A Coke for a dictionary, a dictionary for an iPad, an iPad for a robot. And what if, at some specific moment in time—our twenty-first birthdays, say—the world took it all back? Our houses, they’d empty. Our cars, they’d disappear. We’d be left with only our hands. Maybe then we could put a name to this feeling—this quiet.