"Pooh, when I'm away just doing nothing, will you come up here sometimes?" Christopher Robin asked.
"You mean alone? Just me?" Pooh asked.
"Yes. And Pooh, promise you won't forget me? Ever?" Christopher asked his friend as he stirred the water in the lake with a long branch.
"Oh I won't Christopher, I promise." Pooh answered.
"Not even when I'm a hundred?" Christopher asked.
"How old shall I be then?" Pooh questioned.
"Ninety-nine." Christopher Robin giggled. "Silly old bear."
-End of Flashback-
Christopher thought as he sat in his comfy wingback chair. He was having a nostalgic moment, he couldn't help it since he was old. Christopher had been feeling weaker and weaker in the past month. But he continued to live his life as normally as he possibly could.
After thinking back on that moment in his childhood, he got up from the seat and slowly stood up. He reached for his glasses on the table next to him and put them on. He looked over at his cane, and wanted to reach for it. But he figured he didn't need it. Christopher made his way towards the kitchen in his home for something to drink. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a carton of milk with his fragile grip. He filled a glass and headed back to the living room. As he walked into the room, he stopped at the fireplace. Upon the mantel was pictures, a vase, some dusty coins, a key, and buttons. Among the pictures was the picture of Christopher's wife, who passed away about a year before. Christopher picked up the framed photo and wiped the dust that had collected on its surface with his handkerchief. He analyzed the face of the beautiful woman in black and white. As he stared, a warm smile spread across his face as his eyes got glossier. He carefully placed the picture back where it belonged. Next to that photo was another one that looked a little younger than the antique frame his wife's photo had. It was also a woman, Christopher's daughter. Christopher felt proud seeing this photo. His daughter was a grown woman now and had kids of her own, which was another frame to the right of that one. It was much more modern and in color. It pictured his daughter, her husband, and the two young children who were Christopher's grandkids. Christopher wiped a tear that leaked out of his left eye, though he was smiling, seeing the beauty of the world in his family. The only noise heard was the fire crackling. Christopher waked a few steps and sat back into his chair. He let out a sigh as he made himself comfortable. He took a sip of the milk he had retrieved for himself and attempted to savor it. But his age disabled most of his ability, including his sense of taste. Christopher felt exceptionally happy today, since it was his birthday. All he saw was his home lit up by a warm fire. But the thing that stood out most, and had been standing out since his wife passed, was her chair right across from his. The chair was empty. Nobody occupied the red seat. Red. Red was her favorite color. It discouraged him that she wasn't there to celebrate another year in his life. There was nothing else to be done, so Christopher tucked his spectacles away in his pocket, closed his eyes, and tried to take a nap.
"Christopher?" a warm voice called. Christopher opened his eyes and looked around the room. He saw something sitting in his wife's chair. It was a familiar friend of his, the one with the red shirt and a jar of honey.
"Pooh?" Christopher had a quavering voice, again, due to his age.
"Hello Christopher. How have you been?" Pooh still had a tone of happiness to his voice. Clearly because he was eating honey.
"Oh, I've been fine Pooh." Christopher chuckled. "Oh goodness, what has made you come here?" he asked. Pooh smacked the honey with his lips before answering.
"I promised you, when you were doing nothing, I'd come to see you. Alone." Pooh answered. Christopher recalled it, since he had been thinking of it earlier that day.
"You still remember Pooh?" he had a surprised tone in his voice that Pooh noticed.
"I would never break a promise Christopher. We're friends after all." Pooh told him. Christopher smiled.
"Silly old bear." Christopher shook his head and laughed. Pooh stopped everything and stared at him.
"I haven't heard that in such a long time." Pooh told him. Christopher then felt bad that he had forgotten about Pooh throughout his life and only recalled him when he was old. Christopher thought to change the subject.
"I uh…Oh! Pooh, do you know what day it is?" Christopher asked. Pooh kept stuffing his face with honey before talking.
"Hmm…Saturday?" Pooh asked. Christopher laughed. He missed the times he had with such a funny friend.
"Silly old bear, it's my birthday." Christopher told him. He took another sip of milk. "I have milk to celebrate."
"Oh? How old are you now?" Pooh asked. Christopher tapped his index finger on his chin and thought.
"I believe I am a hundred today." Christopher told him. Pooh smiled.
"That would mean I'm ninety-nine." Pooh told him.
"I'm surprised you recalled." Christopher thought of how great of a friend Pooh was. The two sat in the living room listening to the fire, just enjoying each other's company. Christopher closed his eyes, smiled, and took in the air. "I missed you Pooh bear." He said.
"I missed you too Christopher Robin." Pooh said with a mouth full. Christopher and Pooh said nothing for about 5 minutes. "Oh bother." Pooh cursed. Christopher got concerned, and turned his attention back at his friend. He knew "oh bother" meant there was a problem.
"What's wrong Pooh bear?" Christopher asked.
"I have run out of honey." Pooh turned the jar upside down to see if any honey would drip out, but it was empty.
"I think I may have some honey in the kitchen." Christopher slowly got up and weakly walked to the kitchen, checked for honey in the cupboard, but found nothing but a cobweb. He came back empty handed and sat back down. "Sorry Pooh, I have none left. And I'm afraid I have ran out of milk too."
"Oh bother." Pooh sighed.
"What will you do about it?" Christopher Robin asked.
"Hmm...nothing." Pooh answered.
"How will you do just nothing?" chuckled Christopher.
"Well, when an grown-up, such as yourself, asks 'what are you going to do', I say nothing. Then I'll go out and do it." Pooh giggled. Christopher laughed. "Oo, think, think, think…" Pooh knocked on his head like he would when he was brainstorming. Christopher chuckled at this. He took the final gulp of milk and the glass was empty. "Oh it's alright Christopher. I know a place where we can get some more." Pooh got up from the seat.
"Where is that Pooh?" Christopher got up with him and Pooh took his hand.
"I know it's beyond A Hundred Acre Wood, and it's a land of never-ending milk and honey." Pooh tried his best to explain.
"Alright Pooh bear, you lead the way this time." Christopher put on his glasses. The two walked hand-in-hand out of the room through the walls. They glowed as they disappeared, walking into the light.
Epilouge
In the neighborhood, no one had heard from old man Christopher Robin in a while. Christopher's neighbor, Darby, would always see him retrieve the mail from his mailbox, but he hasn't emerged from his house for a while. Darby was also old, but not as old as Christopher was. She decided to check on her neighbor, like neighbors should, and opened the fence. She knocked on the door and awaited an answer. She knocked again, but no one had opened the door. Darby felt bad for doing this, but she turned the doorknob to see if it was open. To her surprise, it was.
"Mr. Robin?" She asked in a quiet voice. She walked through the house carefully, with the floor creaking every step. She entered the kitchen first and noticed the empty milk carton on the counter. She then quietly made her way to the open door, leading to the living room. The first thing that caught her eye was the fireplace mantel. The pictures looked shined up, but everything else was collecting dust. Darby noticed the fireplace, which looked like it had burned out. It seemed as if it was left on for quite a while until the fire died out. She turned around and saw the back of a chair. Christopher Robin's head was seen a little above the top of the chair's back. "Mr. Robin?" Darby whispered. The old man had appeared to be sleeping. On the table next to him was a lamp and an empty glass of milk. She put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. He didn't move. Darby had figured it out. She was about to leave when she noticed something next to her leg. Christopher was holding the hand of a bear. A yellow bear that wore a red shirt.
So this is just a little story that I made up to take a break from my big ones. I've liked Winnie the Pooh since I was a kid seeing the ending of The Adventures of Winnie the Pooh made me feel nostalgic and gave me this idea. So tell me if you liked it, tell me how you felt, thanks for reading! Read on, and your imagination will stay strong.