"Be careful!" the man shouted.
The woman floundered for a moment, then immediately retorted, "I didn't do anything! I didn't even touch it! It just split open on its own! There must be something wrong with the quality, right?"
I felt the pain in my chest. As the woman's hand moved, I also caught a glimpse of what had happened to the teddy bear.
A large gash had opened across the teddy bear's chest, and stuffing was spilling out.
It hadn't been deliberately damaged. It had split open on its own.
"These look fine, but who knows how many are damaged? I say we stop selling them one by one and find someone to take the whole lot." Her tone changed as she tossed the teddy bear back into the box.
It bounced off the other bears, knocking more stuffing loose. One of its glass eyes fell out, getting lost among the furry toys.
Some of the other teddy bears had tears in their fabric, too. Their bodies were scarred.
I thought it must be a reflection of their feelings. They had lost their owner's affection, and some of them had become ordinary toys. Now that their owner had abandoned them, their heartbreak showed on their bodies.
The box was closed, and the days of darkness continued.
One day, I heard the sound of packing tape. Someone sealed the box and carried it somewhere else. After a long, bumpy journey, I heard a box cutter slice through the tape.
Light poured into the box. An unfamiliar woman picked up the teddy bear and examined it with a frown.
She took all the teddy bears out and lined them up neatly on the floor, then photographed them one by one. Any bears with damage, she tossed back into the box.
I