The sky was only cool colors and the clouds were timid. There was a lack of liveliness in the room and the insignificance of the event was clearer than the tears streaming down the young boy’s face.

“Pony, I…”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yes, I know, I know.. it’s just…”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yes, it is.”

“And you forgot?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Are you sorry?”

“I am.”

“Say it then.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re sorry.”

There was a great silence.