His Name is Carl

His Name is Carl

The strangest gift I got was from one of my brothers friends. She was an artist and usually did airbrushing and occasionally some clay things. It was my birthday and my brother had told her. I told her she didn't have to get me anything, but she said she made something for me.

She pulled a small clay thing out of her backpack. I couldn't tell what it was until she held it up. It was a small clay head. You could see it's nose and eyes clearly, but his mouth was more hidden and the ears looked as if they fell off.

“His name is Carl,” she said, handing the small, clay head to me. I stared at it for a few seconds before managing to speak.

“Thanks,” I said, taking it.

“His ears didn't really stay on in the oven, but he doesn't really need to hear anyway,” she said.

“Okay,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.

It was the strangest gift I had ever received, but I think that is why I always remembered it. And Carl is still sitting on my desk. Even though he is usually hidden behind my laptop.