Here is something I felt encouraged by her to write.. it doesn’t really go anywhere.. lol.. but upon reflection may enter a novel I’ve been working on.

Ta- duh! My purposeless just for fun smattering .

Usually chattering stars  nestled in their beds that foggy night, the moon was silent ,and damp curled around Natterby Fig’s ears like one of Nellie Atterbury’s crocheted caps taken off the line before it was fully dry. 

Followed by Ellison’s slight imprints of rabbit prints on the early morning path, the two murked around the garden. Only it wasn’t murking, Nellie would know that if she ever bothered to toss that patchwork quilt off, put her boots on and help a little in the garden. 

He shook his head, she missed so much.  Moon light echoing across glistening squash vines, and look here, further down, the shack that housed the rabbit hutch Ellison had outgrown. His chuckle expanded in the quiet dark where memories and things that were about to happen caught in the branches of the old oak tree. 

This spring the creek might bloom like it had two years back, you never knew, it could. And That was what it felt like when he was out in his garden, this time of night, like standing on a stepping stone  as rivulets of yesterday, today and maybe swirled around him. 

This wasn’t murking. Nellie would know that if she ever bothered to put on her boots. But she would rather stand in front of that old stove pipe staring at  eggs whispering in a pan of oil. Then again he was fond of her eggs. So he supposed he’d have to give her that, he sighed. 

Almost to his left and could be to his right. Seemed like it had always been like that with him, only more so as of late, as years tossed themselves around his shoulders like a scarf. One of the gifts of growing older he supposed. He wondered if Nellie ever thought about things like this. For a long time he thought she did, thought everyone did but  he was starting to think that maybe, just maybe this was one of the things that made him, him, like the way his big left toe was always pulling away from its brothers. Looking for adventure it was . Nellie might do well to think to think about things like that now and again. Wouldn’t hurt her to dream a little as she visited the hen house. Doubted it would affect his eggs much. 

Eggs and coffee. Now that was good. And he knew it. 

Time to head back. 

Ellison pattered ahead of him. Don’t know why he would be in a hurry. It was a wonder that he wasn’t more spooked by all of Nellie’s mutterings about murking and declarations about rabbits  not belonging in the house. But Ellison didn’t seem to care and he guessed that things like that don’t really matter, too much. 

 

Thanks M. Jean:) https://mjeanpike.wordpress.com/