“I can’t see you anymore, Bill,” whispered Ernestina, “it can’t work. We both know we can’t go on like this.”

“But I love you,”said Bill, “I love the way your scales glisten in the moonlight.”

“And I love you, my little bushy tail. But we’re from different worlds. My plastic dinosaur family would never accept you. This is the way it has to be.”

“You don’t even cry,” muttered Bill as he hung his head, pressing it against his chest.

“I’m made out of plastic.”  

“One last kiss then,” sighed Bill, “to remember you by.”

Ernestina held back, “Don’t make this harder,” she sighed, but Bill was already leaning over her, pushing her back Gone With The Wind style with his great squirrely arms.

“I wish I could hug you,” sighed Ernestina, “but my arms are so tiny.”