Remember this week’s three words? Rat – Pizza – Book.

 

Leopold was a fine-looking rat with rich chestnut-hued fur and bright black eyes. He took particular pride in his tail, which was strong and capable.

He lived under a grand house in the shadow of a garden mountain. He didn’t need much and he loved his simple life.

Bread crusts in the trash cans.

Bird feed in the garden.

An occasional discarded pizza crust as a special treat.

One day in May, the door of the house was open. Leopold entered with anticipation, nose twitching this-way-and-that. His tail brushed something soft and he paused to take a tiny taste. Better than a snack, it was batting for his nest. He found sweet crumbs in a corner.

His reverie was interrupted by a loud noise. A scream. Footfalls on a wood floor. Auditory chaos. Leopold ran under a low couch, his heart beating fast. Something slammed hard on the ground, missing his long tail by a fraction of an inch. A large and heavy book.

The open door was only feet away.

His garden waited for him.

His nest waited for him.

Leopold ran and jumped onto the book. He was airborne, flying. Flying like the buttoned-up blue jays. Flying like the summer hummingbirds. Flying like the iridescent dragonflies. The air rushed through his whiskers and the dark colors of the house transformed to the bright colors of his world. He dropped to soft green. Leopold, in his singular state of relief, never heard the slamming of the house door behind him.