In a cozy toy drawer, where all sorts of playthings snoozed and chatted, lived a handsome spinning Top. He was made of fine wood and painted bright red. Next to him sat a pretty Ball. She was bouncy and light, covered in soft, colorful leather. The Top thought the Ball was the most wonderful toy in the whole drawer. He admired her cheerful bounces.

One day, he gathered all his courage, twirled his best twirl, and said, "Oh, lovely Ball, will you be my sweetheart? We could spin and bounce together forever!"

The Ball giggled, bouncing a little. "Hmm," she said, looking up towards the window. "That's very kind, Mr. Top. But you see, I'm practically engaged to a Swallow. He flies so high and sees the world!"

The Top felt a little wobble in his spin, but he just nodded politely. "Oh, I see," he said quietly.

The very next day, a little girl with bright eyes opened the drawer. She picked up the Ball. "Whee!" cried the Ball silently to herself as the girl threw her up, up, up towards the blue sky. She flew so high, she almost touched the clouds! But then, whoosh! A gust of wind carried her over the fence, and she landed with a soft thud in the neighbor's garden, hidden in the tall grass. She didn't come back.

The Top waited. And waited. The drawer felt a bit empty without her bounces.

Time zipped by, like a fast spin on a smooth floor. The Top got a little older, a little scuffed. One day, the girl's father decided to make him extra special. He carefully painted the Top all over with shiny gold paint! Wow! Now he was a Golden Top! He felt very grand and important, spinning and gleaming like a tiny sun.

One afternoon, while showing off a super-duper, extra-long spin, the Golden Top whizzed right off the table and – oh dear! – landed with a clonk in the big, messy dustbin outside.

It was a bit dark and full of old papers and forgotten things. And there, in a dusty corner, was a squishy, faded old thing that barely looked like a ball anymore.

"Oh, hello," said a very quiet, tired voice. "It's been ages since I talked to anyone."

The Golden Top, still feeling a bit dizzy, looked down his pointy tip. "And who, pray tell, might you be?" he asked, trying to keep his magnificent gold paint from getting dirty.

"I was a beautiful Ball once," sighed the soggy thing. "Made of the finest colorful leather, sewn by clever fingers. I was almost going to marry a Swallow, you know! But I fell into a roof gutter during a storm, got soaked for years and years, and then... well, someone found me and threw me in here."

The Golden Top suddenly felt a strange, faint memory flicker. A bouncy Ball... a Swallow... Could it be? His old friend? She looked so terribly different, so worn out and sad.

But he was a Golden Top now. So shiny, so admired. He puffed himself up (as much as a top can) and said, "Well, I am a magnificent Golden Top. Everyone says how splendid I look." He didn't say, "I think I remember you." He didn't say anything about the old days.

Just then, a gardener came to empty the dustbin. He grumbled as he looked inside. "Ugh, this old, ruined ball," he said, and without a second thought, he tossed the soggy, faded Ball into a pile of rubbish to be taken away.

The Golden Top watched her go. He knew, deep in his wooden heart, it was the Ball he once knew. But she was so changed, and he was so golden and proud. He stayed silent.

A little later, the girl found the Golden Top in the dustbin. "Oh, my beautiful Top!" she cried, rescuing him. She wiped him clean and put him back in the toy drawer, where he spun and gleamed more brightly than ever.

He was the grandest toy in the drawer. And he almost never thought about a colorful leather Ball, or a Swallow, or a promise from long ago. After all, she was gone, and he was gold.

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