Petal went to the boutique after work and picked up the pink dress she’d been eying, the one with the bow on the collar. She went to Bat Heart Spa, coming out fresh, clean, and smelling like lilac wyvern scales. At home, she considered two lipsticks. Unable to decide, she showed both to the lazily judging cat lounging on her bed. “This is…?” it asked. “Date two.” Indigo.
“So you met at the Grossery Store?” the cat asked, flicking its tail and rolling over. The evening looked better upside down.
“Yeah, I was looking for toadstool broth and all the jars were out of reach — I think she did it on purpose so I’d have to ask her for help.”
Across the village, May ran around her small apartment yelling, “Has anyone seen my black shirt?!”
“You will have to be a bit more specific,” a raven chimed sarcastically from its perch above bedroom door.
“It has skulls and ghosts,” May’s voice began to rise with panic as she tore through her closet. “And ice cream cones and I am already weeaaaring it,” came the half-cry-half-shout stress volcano of relief.
The raven flew down and nuzzled her cheek, “You’re going to do great, kiddo, relax.”
“She’s really cute,” May mumbled happily as she fussed, somewhat successfully, with her hair.
A Quiet Respite 