A Cold Story.
Chapter 1.
“It’s too hot,” said Tux.
He was stretched out on the back patio in his usual position, back legs laying in one direction while his front legs faced the other. Not being as limber, I was resting on my back with all four feet in the air.
But no matter the position, he was right. It was indeed too hot. The air felt as roasted as when the lady opened the oven while baking cookies.
“Help me,” whimpered Tux.
I sighed. I was just as hot as he was.
“You like to tell stories,” he said. “Tell me a story.”
“What?”
“Tell me a story to help me cool down,” he said. “A cold story.”
“Once upon a time,” I said.
“That’s not a cold enough.”
“Who’s telling this story?”
“Sorry,” said Tux.
“It’s too hot,” said Tux.
He was stretched out on the back patio in his usual position, back legs laying in one direction while his front legs faced the other. Not being as limber, I was resting on my back with all four feet in the air.
But no matter the position, he was right. It was indeed too hot. The air felt as roasted as when the lady opened the oven while baking cookies.
“Help me,” whimpered Tux.
I sighed. I was just as hot as he was.
“You like to tell stories,” he said. “Tell me a story.”
“What?”
“Tell me a story to help me cool down,” he said. “A cold story.”
“Once upon a time,” I said.
“That’s not a cold enough.”
“Who’s telling this story?”
“Sorry,” said Tux.
Chapter 2.
“It was a dark and stormy night.”
“You can’t start a story like that.”
That was Herbie. He was sitting in a rocking chair nearby. He had his paws over his eyes to block out the sun.
“Why not?” I objected. “I love dark and stormy nights.”
He lifted his head up. “It’s been done too many times before. Everyone knows you can’t start a story that way.”
Herbie tucked his head back under into his paws. That was his way of saying the conversation was over.
“I don’t care,” said Tux. “Keep telling the story.”
I cleared my throat and began again.
“It was a dark and stormy night.”
“Good start,” said Tux.
“It was a dark and stormy night.”
“You can’t start a story like that.”
That was Herbie. He was sitting in a rocking chair nearby. He had his paws over his eyes to block out the sun.
“Why not?” I objected. “I love dark and stormy nights.”
He lifted his head up. “It’s been done too many times before. Everyone knows you can’t start a story that way.”
Herbie tucked his head back under into his paws. That was his way of saying the conversation was over.
“I don’t care,” said Tux. “Keep telling the story.”
I cleared my throat and began again.
“It was a dark and stormy night.”
“Good start,” said Tux.
Chapter 3.
“A freezing rain soaked into my fur.”
“Brrr,” said Tux.
“An icy wind made my bones shiver.”
“Double brrr,” said Tux.
“Lightning crackled across the sky and thunder shook the ground.”
“This is good,” said Tux. He had rolled over onto his front paws.
“In the brief flashes of light, a tall Victorian mansion could be seen ahead.”
“Creepy,” said Tux.
“The windows were dark and ominous, appearing like eyes watching him. Except for one window. There was light coming from a room on the top floor.”
Tux was now sitting up.
“Go on,” he said.
“A freezing rain soaked into my fur.”
“Brrr,” said Tux.
“An icy wind made my bones shiver.”
“Double brrr,” said Tux.
“Lightning crackled across the sky and thunder shook the ground.”
“This is good,” said Tux. He had rolled over onto his front paws.
“In the brief flashes of light, a tall Victorian mansion could be seen ahead.”
“Creepy,” said Tux.
“The windows were dark and ominous, appearing like eyes watching him. Except for one window. There was light coming from a room on the top floor.”
Tux was now sitting up.
“Go on,” he said.
Chapter 4.
“I crept slowly toward the mansion.”
Tux started shivering.
“I heard a noise. I looked up.”
“Yes?” whispered Tux.
“There was a face in the window!”
“Aaah!” said Tux.
“The window started to open!”
“Double Aaah!” said Tux.
“The face was now leaning out of the window!”
I looked over at Tux. He had gotten up. He was now trotting toward the cat door.
“Where are you going?” I called after him.
“Inside!” he called back.
“Don’t you want to hear the rest?”
“No!” he said. “That story was TOO cold! Now I need to go warm up!”
“I crept slowly toward the mansion.”
Tux started shivering.
“I heard a noise. I looked up.”
“Yes?” whispered Tux.
“There was a face in the window!”
“Aaah!” said Tux.
“The window started to open!”
“Double Aaah!” said Tux.
“The face was now leaning out of the window!”
I looked over at Tux. He had gotten up. He was now trotting toward the cat door.
“Where are you going?” I called after him.
“Inside!” he called back.
“Don’t you want to hear the rest?”
“No!” he said. “That story was TOO cold! Now I need to go warm up!”
Copyright MaryRose Lovgren 2024