Spinning
Maybe if I post this, it'll spur me on to finish it... see if you can figure out the significance to a couple of the names.
It was a shortish cement footpath, cracked by seventy winters and the tread of many feet, flanked by pansies and primroses. It began, depending on the perspective, by the edge of a recently graded gravel road, a narrow road, a dead end streat of a mile's length. The road led south toward its mortal demise, where it melted into the gravel lot of the road end farm.
The road led north 'til it joined Brandy Hollow which headed West into the small farming town of Dogbone. In Dogbone, all the cats were tabbies, all the children scored at the 50th percentile, you didn't look twice at any of the men, and all the women used rubber-coated jar openers because they were not any stronger than most. A very average town — but there wasn't much to flaunt and there wasn't much to desire, so everyone pretty well liked the place.
The primrose-flanked walk passed through a lawn spangled with edelweiss and dandelions. It ended at the front stoop of a very symmetrical small white house with a large centrally-placed picture window. The tan curtains were parted to make space for a black curled head which peered expectantly up the road. The black curled head was mimicked by a grey tabby cat with six toes on each foot — mimicked, except the ears on the cat pricked and swivelled toward the north while the ears of the black curled head remained motionless.
A grey and mauve minivan pulled up before the small white house, the sliding door opened and a girl of 16 stepped out onto the fluffed gravel. She waved a cheerful good-bye to the driver and red haired passenger, shut the door and skipped up the primrose-lined walk. Her blue dress waved gracefully in the breeze.
The grey tabby and the black curled head issued forth to meet the new arrival.
"Choco puff, how's it going?" inquired the blue dressed.
"How many times have I asked you to not call me cereal?" Charley exclaimed, though clearly well pleased. "It'll be the talk of the town before you know it."
"That wouldn't be hard — I'm so slow to catch on, so unobservant. Besides, it's just us that call cereal that — no one else eats chocolate granola.... Speaking of which..."
Auburn hair, black curls, and grey tabby disappeared into the small white house, and the observing field mouse glanced furtively toward all horizons before following suit. His eyes sought and found their former subjects, and he skillfully scaled the indoor avocado tree like one who has done it many times.
Charley jumped by the cupboards, hoping to snag the cereal containers. He missed one completely, but knocked the other over, sending chocolate granola cascading over his head and all over the floor.
The mouse looked on with excitement, taking in everything so he could report back to Musculus headquarters. This was looking good for his kin.
"Chocopuff! The floor has existed longer than you and you don't think it's content to feed itself?" picking a toasty chunk of oatmeal and chocolate from Charley's tousled crown.
"It may be content with the crumbs it receives at your hands, but many's the time it must sigh and sing of a hard knock life. You know I cannot bear to see my friends thus."
The blue-dressed lass turned a pirouette as she crossed the kitchen to the broom closet. She popped the dust pan from the green broom handle and tossed it to Charley, who easily snagged it between his elbow and side and set it on his head.
"Guess what, Choco?" energetically whisking the cereal toward the mini hillock in the center of the floor.
It was a shortish cement footpath, cracked by seventy winters and the tread of many feet, flanked by pansies and primroses. It began, depending on the perspective, by the edge of a recently graded gravel road, a narrow road, a dead end streat of a mile's length. The road led south toward its mortal demise, where it melted into the gravel lot of the road end farm.
The road led north 'til it joined Brandy Hollow which headed West into the small farming town of Dogbone. In Dogbone, all the cats were tabbies, all the children scored at the 50th percentile, you didn't look twice at any of the men, and all the women used rubber-coated jar openers because they were not any stronger than most. A very average town — but there wasn't much to flaunt and there wasn't much to desire, so everyone pretty well liked the place.
The primrose-flanked walk passed through a lawn spangled with edelweiss and dandelions. It ended at the front stoop of a very symmetrical small white house with a large centrally-placed picture window. The tan curtains were parted to make space for a black curled head which peered expectantly up the road. The black curled head was mimicked by a grey tabby cat with six toes on each foot — mimicked, except the ears on the cat pricked and swivelled toward the north while the ears of the black curled head remained motionless.
A grey and mauve minivan pulled up before the small white house, the sliding door opened and a girl of 16 stepped out onto the fluffed gravel. She waved a cheerful good-bye to the driver and red haired passenger, shut the door and skipped up the primrose-lined walk. Her blue dress waved gracefully in the breeze.
The grey tabby and the black curled head issued forth to meet the new arrival.
"Choco puff, how's it going?" inquired the blue dressed.
"How many times have I asked you to not call me cereal?" Charley exclaimed, though clearly well pleased. "It'll be the talk of the town before you know it."
"That wouldn't be hard — I'm so slow to catch on, so unobservant. Besides, it's just us that call cereal that — no one else eats chocolate granola.... Speaking of which..."
Auburn hair, black curls, and grey tabby disappeared into the small white house, and the observing field mouse glanced furtively toward all horizons before following suit. His eyes sought and found their former subjects, and he skillfully scaled the indoor avocado tree like one who has done it many times.
Charley jumped by the cupboards, hoping to snag the cereal containers. He missed one completely, but knocked the other over, sending chocolate granola cascading over his head and all over the floor.
The mouse looked on with excitement, taking in everything so he could report back to Musculus headquarters. This was looking good for his kin.
"Chocopuff! The floor has existed longer than you and you don't think it's content to feed itself?" picking a toasty chunk of oatmeal and chocolate from Charley's tousled crown.
"It may be content with the crumbs it receives at your hands, but many's the time it must sigh and sing of a hard knock life. You know I cannot bear to see my friends thus."
The blue-dressed lass turned a pirouette as she crossed the kitchen to the broom closet. She popped the dust pan from the green broom handle and tossed it to Charley, who easily snagged it between his elbow and side and set it on his head.
"Guess what, Choco?" energetically whisking the cereal toward the mini hillock in the center of the floor.
posted by Claire at 19:08
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