Читать книгу Where Dreams Blossom: The Wind of Past Times - - Страница 6

Rusty shuffled back into the classroom, his ears drooping and his tail (the imaginary one, of course) tucked firmly between his legs. Billy was still clutching his Spider-Man lunchbox, giving Rusty a wide berth. Mrs. Gable gave him a kind smile and gestured for him to sit down.

The reading lesson was a blur of unfamiliar words and confusing sentences. Rusty couldn’t concentrate. All he could think about was the peanut butter sandwich and the disapproving look on Mrs. Gable’s face. He missed the simple pleasures of being a dog: sniffing, digging, running, barking, and generally causing harmless canine chaos. Human life, he decided, was far too complicated.

Finally, the school day ended. Rusty practically sprinted out of the building, eager to escape the confines of classrooms and rules. He trudged home, dragging his feet and feeling thoroughly miserable.

When he arrived, Mom greeted him with a warm hug. «How was school, sweetie?» she asked.

Rusty just mumbled something unintelligible and trudged upstairs to his room. He flopped down on his bed, burying his face in the soft pillows. He’d never been so exhausted in his life.

The bed was incredibly comfortable, softer and warmer than anything he’d ever experienced as a stray dog. He snuggled under the covers, feeling a wave of drowsiness wash over him. For the first time in his life, he was sleeping indoors, under a roof, protected from the elements.

But as he drifted off to sleep, a strange feeling started to creep in… restlessness. He couldn’t shake the memory of the open road, the exciting smells, the thrill of the chase. He missed the freedom, the adventure, the raw, untamed spirit of being a dog.

He tossed and turned in the bed, unable to find a comfortable position. The mattress was too soft, the blankets too heavy, the room too quiet. He longed for the familiar sounds of the city, the distant rumble of traffic, the barking of other dogs, the whisper of the wind through the alleyways.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He threw off the covers and padded silently out of the room. He crept downstairs and found a quiet corner in the living room, far away from the soft bed and the warm blankets. He curled up on the cool, hard floor, closed his eyes, and finally drifted off to sleep. It wasn’t as comfortable as his bed, but it felt… right.

Meanwhile, Across Town…

Ethan huddled in a cardboard box behind a dumpster, shivering in the cold night air. The wind howled through the alleyway, carrying with it the stench of garbage and despair. He pulled the edges of the box tighter around him, trying to ward off the biting chill.

He had spent the day exploring the neighborhood, enjoying the freedom and adventure of being a dog. He had chased squirrels, sniffed out hidden treasures, and even managed to snag a discarded hot dog from a nearby park. But as darkness fell, a wave of loneliness washed over him. There was no warm bed to crawl into, no loving hands to scratch him behind the ears, no one to tell him he was a good boy.

Now, as he shivered in the cold, he started to realize that being a dog wasn’t as fun as he had imagined. It was cold, it was lonely, and it was downright scary. He missed Mom, he missed his warm bed, he even missed… gasp… school.

He closed his eyes, trying to conjure up a vision of his cozy room, his stuffed animals, his familiar routine. But all he could see was the harsh reality of his current situation: the cold, the darkness, and the gnawing feeling of hunger.

As he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were filled with images of warm houses, loving families, and endless bowls of kibble. He woke up several times during the night, shivering and whimpering, his heart aching with loneliness and regret.

By the time the sun finally peeked over the horizon, Ethan was exhausted, cold, and miserable. He realized that being a dog wasn’t a game, it was a struggle. And he knew, deep down, that he had to find a way to get back to his old life.