So Amy and Tess decided to post a bit of their works-in-progress last week, and since I'm a suggestible person, I decided to join them.
Here you go!
I turn my back on the game and pick my way through the wet grass. The water soaks my fur, and the lawn is cold and slimy on my stomach. This better be worth it.
On the edge of the curb, I stop. I hadn't realized as a human how wide roads are. This one’s like a river, a flat expanse of gray, dark with rain. Sam sits in the middle, his head tilted back, and I wonder if he’s drinking the rain.
Sam looks at me, his eyes yellow and round in the gray of the day. "Come on, Becca. I want to show you something."
I hesitate. The edge of the curb seems very high, and the trickle of water at its base is more than enough to wet my paws. What if a car came? I’m not nearly fast enough to avoid it.
"Here," Sam springs across the road and picks me up in his mouth.
"Hey!" I protest, as he carries me to the middle of the street. "Is this safe? I don't think this is a good idea."
"Relax, love," Sam says. "I'll keep watch and I can get you away before a car even appears. But I want to show you something."
I try to relax, though the asphalt is rough under my paws, and the road seems wide and hostile. "What do you want to show me?" I ask.
"Look up," Sam says, his eyes on the street around us. "Go on, I'll keep an eye out. Just look up."
I look up.
The first thing I notice is the rain on my face, warm and soft like a benediction. Then I see the drops, coming straight at me as if the entire great, wide sky is reaching down, falling past me, as if I'm moving forward through something I can't understand. It's mesmerizing.
"You see it, Becca?" Sam asks. "You see how it falls?"
And for a moment, I do. The world spins on its axis like a great, beautiful carousel. I feel weightless, exuberant, like the little girl I used to be, paper crown and all. If I had arms, I would reach them out, if I could twirl, I would. The moment is perfect, clear as a prism.
And just as fragile.
Beside me, Sam tenses, and I come back to earth with a thump, as he spins around and grabs me by the scruff of the neck. With three great bounds we're back on the curb, just as I hear the growl of a car engine. Before I can even catch my breath, the great mass of metal and rubber hurls past us with a flattening roar.
My sense of connection, of euphoria evaporates, and I'm just a cold, wet, kitten shivering on the sidewalk.