South hope street
When things go south, as they often do, it’s easy to feel like a stumped, stooped street slug. But South and Hope belong together. Just ask stoop child Charles.
Good shoulders
I do not think Wooderson would mind being compared to a turnip. Actually, I do not think Wooderson would mind being compared to a tadpole, or a KFC Double Down, or Grover Cleveland, or anything at all, so long as the one doing the comparing is gazing into his eyes.
Epilogues: April 2023
T.S. Eliot, who first discovered that every cat has three names, declared April to be “the cruelest month.” Clearly he did not know the names of Mayhem, Crumpet, or Patches.
One common kitten
He was just a common kitten. No name, no mother, no letter of recommendation. Just a tangle of tangerine fur, tearful eyes, and a hummingbird’s drumming heart. Just a cluster of “commons.”
Permanent Prescott
Prescott is unimpressed with pencils. Like every ageless child, she has a soft spot for crayons. But her heart belongs to markers.
Pearly girls
We were not all born to be comforting beverages. Once we get over this, we can get to the business of being pearls.
Hamster-sized hunters
Our beef may be plant-based.* Our teeth may not yet exist. But make no mistake: the humans and kittens of Tabby’s Place are hunters at heart.
Standard candles
Under our sky, “standards” sometimes melt. Blizzards barge into springtime. Lions crash through the suburbs in broad daylight. Hope and grief clasp the same candle.