Pippa’s Wobbly Sugar Spoon — Between the fern pot and the chalky menu stand, Pippa slid her bent sugar spoon into her apron pocket and twirled through the cat café. Read the full story →
Between the fern pot and the chalky menu stand, Pippa slid her bent sugar spoon into her apron pocket and twirled through the cat café. She wanted to deliver the first heart cake to Table Seven before the cream stopped smelling like vanilla clouds. “No licking the roses, Mochi,” she warned a striped cat under one chair. The spoon gave its usual clink-clink, which made her grin; it had belonged to the café’s first baker and always made trays feel less wobbly.
Past the tiny flower vases, the spoon tapped once against her pocket. Pippa turned left instead of right, just to be silly. Tap-tap! She turned again. Soon she was standing at the smallest round table, the one nobody chose because a leafy plant tickled your elbow and the menu board leaned like it was eavesdropping.
Then the plant sneezed. Out popped three kittens, each wearing a dab of whipped cream on its nose. The spoon had not been lucky at all; it had been pointing to the café’s secret kitten booth. Pippa set down the heart cake and laughed so hard the fork rang like a bell. Next time you spot the little tables and plants, listen for a clink-clink that says you are exactly where you belong.
