3.


I lost my 3.

How? I’m not quite sure, but it’s lost.
Have you seen my 3? No matter where I look for it, it’s not there.

I thought I saw it on my keyboard, but it wasn’t there. I checked my wallet, but it wasn’t there either. I even looked at my watch, but sadly my 3 was no where to be seen.

I’m not quite sure what to do without my 3. I tried to put 1 and 2 together so that I would have a new 3, but 1 and 2 refused. They told me I had to find my 3, that they could not make a new 3 just because I asked. “You can’t just replace a number,” they told me. I had to agree and I continued to look for my 3.

I didn’t realize how lost I would be without my 3. My 3 made up the first digit of my birthday, now I was born on 0. I lost my 3, and without it I don’t have a birthday. Do I still exist if I don’t have a birthday? Am I just as lost as my 3?

I became frantic, “WHERE IS MY 3?!” I screamed. But only an emptiness replied with a sigh. I’ve lost my 3, and in doing so I’ve lost that part of myself that my 3 was made up of.

I’m not sure when, or if I will ever find my 3. Has my 3 run off without me? I can’t be certain. I’ve looked everywhere I think a 3 may have run to, or may have gotten lost.

I must be patient and hope my 3 finds it’s way back. I’ll wait for my 3, I’ll hold down this fort. I’ll be here when my 3 decides to come back.

I’m lost without my 3.

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