January 26th, 2009
He peered in through the screen door, looking up.
She reached up, standing on her tippy toes, making cute little struggling sounds. Finally, she accomplished the cookie jar, pulling it to herself with a grating, glass-on-steel sound that sent shivers down her spine. She giggled.
He thrilled in the sound. It reminded him of Home.
Oblivious, she opened the jar. Digging, she searched for the chocolate ones, and pulled a handful out with a triumphant noise. The smell of chocolate filled her little nose and she involuntarily inhaled deeply.
He thrilled in the scent. He’d never experienced such before.
Suddenly, she noticed him. His tiny black eyes blinked at her, his muscles tensed for the inevitable scream and ensuing flight. No scream came; instead, she crouched down and regarded him seriously. Without a word, she opened the door and invited him in.
She offered a cookie. He accepted.
They sat on the floor together, quietly sharing cookies and crumbs.