The Game of Extra Whiskers — Every evening, Vesper tapped the rug’s border and counted only sensible things: four paws, two ears, one tail. Read the full story →
Every evening, Vesper tapped the rug’s border and counted only sensible things: four paws, two ears, one tail. Then she invented Extra Whiskers, a game in which every curl, petal, and shadow could secretly be a whisker if she named it before the clock clicked. Because of that, the warm parlor began to rustle with suspicious little almost-whiskers; because of that, Vesper accused the wallpaper, the fern, and her own tail of cheating. “Aha,” she whispered, nose full of dust and lavender polish. Finally she sat perfectly still, crowned herself judge, and counted nothing sensible at all.
