For the last day, I felt a lot pressure to write the perfect last story. But that’s impossible, so I decided to focus on an unexpected character, an animal, and leave it at that. This story picks up where yesterdays’ story left off, by the way.
Thanks to everyone who’s been reading along and cheering me on. Now I’ll turn to reworking the manuscript. I have a lot of changes to make, and these backstories have helped me see what those changes should be. Wish me luck!
Beatrice waited until the man vanished into the woods. It took effort, her wings weren’t strong enough for her weight, but after a few tries, she sat on the windowsill, her fur shimmering in the moonlight. She knew what was going to happen, but not having been given the power of speech, she’d been powerless to stop it.
Though as she listened to the breeze through branches of the plum tree, she concluded speaking out would’ve made any difference. There comes a point when words meat little to humans. She’d seen this enough in her few years of life.
Things had to be decided though. Weary and not entirely sure her next phase of life was going to be as long as she’d hoped, Beatrice turned back to the empty room and jumped to the floor. The girl would come back, of course. That she didn’t question. But the larger humans, the adults, were another matter.
Beatrice moved across the room and nudged the door open with her nose. She used her wings to help her down the stairs, a passing thought of the girl’s arms lifting her up and helping her made her smile, or rather it made her smile as best a creature like her could. She was going to miss the girl.
The front door opened easily. The man hadn’t locked it. He forgot such things. So unwise for a human in his position. Beatrice lopped onto the front steps. Her long ears took in many sounds. She heard more than the humans even though they were in the thick of the woods. There were dragonfly wings and wandering midnight deer. There were sleeping lizards and hunting wolves. Ah. The wolves. Beatrice listened especially keenly to them. Then came the crack and the sound of a struggle. Beatrice sniffed the air and tasted a hint of blood. Not too much, but enough.
She’d leave on her own terms. The girl would kick up a fuss, and while Beatrice couldn’t change much, she could avoid that fate. Better for the girl not to have to decide between her pet and her future.
Beatrice headed out of the garden, and where each of the humans had gone north, she went south. A vast wilderness stretched out before her, and she was ready to explore.
One thought on “It’s over!”
A perfect last story. I’m itching for the book, and for more bits. Yes, I’m just like a cat–I’m never entirely satisfied! Always wanting more!