Ron Hevener Bedtime Stories for Animal Lovers (Volume One) by Ron Hevener

Author:Ron Hevener [Hevener, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC029000 FICTION / Short Stories (single author)
ISBN: 9780967951461
Publisher: Pennywood Press
Published: 2014-02-26T17:16:13+00:00

“Every day brings a chance for you to draw in a breath, kick off your shoes, and dance.”

—Oprah Winfrey

Nobody’s Looking…

The world, as they say, is turning… turning… turning… Are you turning with it?

She loved this time of year… tree frogs and crickets singing the end of growing time; early mornings, misty and cool. She scarcely noticed the cat nearby. “How’s it going back there, Patches? Still with me?” she asked, as they explored the country road, smelling the corn silk, the last of the wild flowers, the fertile earth. With the stray feather of a fluttering dove clinging to a thistle, and a ring-neck pheasant calling in the cropped alfalfa fields nearby, she thought, “It’s all so much like myself… like my life right now.”

She was a city girl. Though she had been raised in the country, it was the excitement and opportunity of New York that called her. And she had run for it—run straight for it like a cat after a butterfly, even though New York hadn’t treated her very well.

Yes, she had made her way with odd jobs and good friends. But, no matter how much she earned, no matter who she met or what fascinating stories they told, something… something… called her. It could be the flick of a squirrel’s tail… the flutter of a sparrow… the coo of a pigeon. Walking on grey cement, among grey buildings checkered with masks of black glass reflecting the outside of everything, but nothing beneath the surface, it could be the color of a leaf falling to the street that caught her attention. It could be the petals of a sad flower, bundled for sale on a cart as someone called out “Pretties for your love?”

“Pretties for your love,” she thought, walking slower now. What an unusual thing to say in a land of concrete hearts and unforgiving glass. So far from home, she thought; so far from herself.

She learned a lot about life by living in the city. She learned a lot about people trying to get somewhere in a troubled world. By now, she could tell who was bold and brassy, who was weak and timid… who was a success and who was just another wannabe. She could tell these things without even saying hello. She could tell, just by watching people—which was something she did a lot of these days. People in subways, people shopping, people waiting for… waiting for what? Pretties for your love?

She tried love. Or, so she thought. She went to places where she could meet other people her age, she struck up friendships at work, she flirted. She went to nightclubs and laughed and smiled. Sometimes, she even danced the night away. Love? Why didn’t she feel it? Where was it hiding?

In the city, her feet hurt from walking on cement, day after day. Her heart, too. Passing by the park, she noticed the birds landing for peanut shells and pieces of bread tossed by strangers. Birds had it made, she decided. They only walked on cement half the time.

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