Bixby’s Porch Dash — Every day, Bixby batted leaves across the porch boards—swish, tap, zoom—and tried to land one beside each pumpkin. He called it Pumpkin Post. Read the full story →
Every day, Bixby batted leaves across the porch boards—swish, tap, zoom—and tried to land one beside each pumpkin. He called it Pumpkin Post. The pumpkins never clapped, but their curly stems wiggled in the chilly air.
Until one day, a gust whooshed under the rail and blew the supper name cards into the bushes. Because of that, Bixby chased his game leaves past the grinning pumpkins. Because of that, he tucked one leaf by each chair before anyone came outside. “Secret delivery!” he purred.
At supper, everyone found a place without knowing why. Bixby sat very still, bow neat, whiskers smelling cinnamon from the doorway. If you peek at the porch boards, can you spot the last leaf from Pumpkin Post?