Junie Waits for the Purr — At the garden curb, Junie rolled one inch, then stopped beside the cool grass. Read the full story →
At the garden curb, Junie rolled one inch, then stopped beside the cool grass. She wanted to hear the first morning purr, so she kept her little engine hush-hush while dew tickled her tires. The sun made the sidewalk smell warm and chalky. A breeze slid under her bow with a soft fwip.
A striped ball of yarn rolled from the marigolds and bumped her front wheel: tap. Junie waited. Tap-tap. The yarn wiggled, and out peeked a tiny cricket, using the string as a round, cozy house. “Please listen,” it chirped. Its song trembled through the yarn, into the grass, and under Junie’s hood until her whole engine answered, purrrrr. If you find the yarn ball by Junie’s wheel, can you imagine that small song starting again at the garden curb?
