Playground of the Soul

The results of the 140-character novel contest I participated in the other day have been announced.
Unfortunately, I was completely wiped out, and the frustration only continues to grow. It was my first time attempting this specific character count, and I found that I could actually write it surprisingly well; I definitely had fun while thinking up the ideas. I gained something—but in a battle, winning is everything, and no matter how I dress it up, it's inevitable that it will sound like sour grapes.
There are various things to consider, such as style and ideas. Well, I'll leave that as homework for my next challenge, but since I've come this far, I'll leave my entries here.
I lost; that is a fact. But if even one person thought they were a little interesting, that also remains a fact. I hope that I could stir your heart, even just a little, as you read them.

◇

I am holding her white hand as she lies in the hospital bed.
"Thank you, and I'm sorry."
A powerless voice. I am the one who should be apologizing. Unable to do anything for you, with so little time left.
"Forget about me and be happy."
I just keep holding her hand.

This love is eternal. Even when our lives eventually become particles of atoms smaller than ash.

◇

I recently consulted a senior colleague about not enjoying my work. They replied, 'You should just think of it as a game to achieve results,' and I felt a bit more motivated. Games always have enemies. I immediately took down the cause of my unhappiness—the boss and colleagues I disliked. However, my results and level didn't go up, and now I'm in prison.
I defeated the boss, and now an escape game has begun.

◇

The characters on the manuscript began to blur. A small voice came from the fountain pen I was holding.
"Teacher, the ink is about to run out."
"Is it time for a replacement already?"
But the cartridge-style ink I removed still had contents left. The ink suddenly started screaming.
"I don't want to work anymore, I'm running away from home!"
"Ah, the ink has snapped!"
It seems his resolve is firm.