Tragedy of the Jigsaw

Dozens of puzzle pieces laid perfectly conjoined before us, but as the loose pieces dwindled in number, we realized that we were afflicted with the tragedy of the jigsaw: a puzzle piece was missing. It was neither under the table nor stuck in the corner of the box. Our great-grandma, Nana, explained the predicament as she had many times before, he (the puzzle piece) must have grown legs and walked right out that door. I looked to the back porch door, imagining our little puzzle piece, with new-grown stick figure legs and arms, waving good bye as he slipped away.