In the still of the night when the world was painted silver we crept into Her room through a window left open. One, two, three, we crept, four, five on soft paws with soft purrs. Outside flowers had become ghost stars in the dark black bushes, leaves were silver edged and the sky belonged to the flying mice and the stars. Inside we all became ammonite cats while I, Pixie, whispered stories, of dragons and castles and knights and horses, of wizards and witches and wolves and pirates, into Her ear.
In the day time She had spoken to Her publisher, soon to become my publisher as they work on the contract for my book. Soon it will arrive and I will sign it with my paw.
Meanwhile She dreams.
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8 comments:
I will want a copy of that book at whatever price and I hope it will be signed with a Pixie paw-print. In my list of favorite things cat paws rank high.
Is there a book in the works?
I can't wait to know what's in your mind Pixie. It's a good thing that you found Her.
Oh my gosh, I want a copy of that book too! I can't wait.
Well, this is good news, Pixie!( Of course, She may have to work extra hard so you will all have to be extra good.)
Pixie, you could put what you wrote here between two colorful covers, bind them together with string, and sign the front -- and I would buy it. The thought of a book is dreamy.
well done Pixie Cat! I knew you'd get that contract. A copy of your book we must have!
Maggie x
good on you, pixie--it's the smallest & softest who rule the world :)
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