Image © Phylor
Despite his obvious affliction he was a happy boy. You only had to look at him to see what a contented little boy he was.
He did gather about him assorted spare parts, not that he wanted them attached but it was comforting for him to know they were there. Being an armless torso never fazed him. Always he looked to see the better side of life.
Once he had held pride of place in the royal palace but war had brought an end to his beauty, another victim of the battle they said as they dumped what was left of him in the rubbish pile behind the palace long with the other destroyed statues.
Here he remained with the other broken pieces of sculptured wonder carrying on conversations in broken speeches about their former days of glory.