Sunday, August 26, 2007

Time for sleep.

The 1,001st star has appeared in the sky. This means it has grown too late for Fergus to continue his search for lavender. I have found a flat little spot on which to rest, away from the cacophony of whispering grasses, away from watchful lurking Eyes.

Who left me that note? If they want to offer Fergus some sweet lavender, why do they place themselves so far from finding?

Reminds me of my sister, Butternut, who used to run far far away so no one could find her, though I always could. She used to hide under lily pads and hold her breath until I came. But she is gone now. Great Uncle Gourdon used to say it was for the best, that I was made to be an only plumpkin, and that she was rotten through and through. Great Aunt Yam said he was only teasing, but Fergus knows he felt it to be true.

For me, I do not think Butternut was a bad plumpkin, just different. And every now and again me gets the same scratching in the base of my head that tells me to go far far away and hide. Butternut called it the Imp of My Undoing.

Well I will tell you: it is late, and I should have returned home many hours ago. But here I am out on this windy precipice. It is so dark my little glowbug has given up and gone to sleep. But I am not alone here on my search for the sweet-smelling lavender flower. The Imp of My Undoing is with me.

1 comment:

OaklandLady said...

Awe, that is so sweet and so sad, I am really loving these stories.