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The Planet of Lost Things

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The Wishes

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The laundry basket in Mr. Wilson’s apartment was an overstuffed monster. It leaned against the wall like it had just run a marathon and given up. Mr. Wilson dove into the pile, tossing shirts, pants, and a mysterious scarf over his shoulder like a dog digging for a bone.

“Come on, Sock. Don’t make me call the sock police!” he muttered, pulling out a sweater and shaking it furiously. No sock.

He crouched in front of the washing machine, yanked open the door, and stuck his head inside. “Hello? Sock?” he called, as if it might answer. 

“Unbelievable,” he groaned, holding up the lone sock he’d found earlier. “What’s the point of you without your twin? You’re like macaroni without cheese. Like me without coffee!” He threw it back in the basket with a dramatic sigh and marched to the window.

The city lights sparkled like glitter, and Mr. Wilson leaned on the windowsill. “I wish all my lost stuff would come back,” he said. “Especially you, Lucky Sock. You’re the key to my happy feet.”

Across town, Mia sat on her bedroom floor, flipping through an old photo album. The pictures made Mia giggle. There she was as a baby, sitting in a laundry basket (why did grown-ups do that to babies?). Another showed her in the middle of a mud puddle, and then there was one with her face smeared with chocolate pudding. But then, she stopped flipping.

There, on the next page, was a picture of her holding Rosie—her doll with the big red bow and the face that always looked like it knew a joke.

“Oh, Rosie,” Mia whispered, touching the picture like it might bring Rosie back. Rosie had been her best friend. They had tea parties, solved mysteries, and even defeated a dragon (well, it was her cat in a paper crown, but still).

She remembered losing Rosie at the park. Mia had looked under every swing, behind every slide, and even inside the trash can (yuck), but Rosie was gone.

Mia’s mom poked her head into the room. “It’s time for bed, sweetie.”

“Okay,” Mia said, snapping the album shut. But before she climbed into bed, she glanced out her bedroom window. The stars twinkled like they were up to something.

“I wish all the lost things would come back,” she whispered, as if the stars might have the power to make it happen.