thenightowlwrites
Walking through the park she noticed lots of things...flowers. Trees. Blue skies. Clouds. Kids playing on the jungle gym. The park bench with one man on it, feeding the squirrels. The mitten that someone had lost. The trash can that had been graffittied with "LOVE" in bright red.
The saxophonist stood and started his solo, his fingers working away at the shiny gold keys, his feet tapping in rhythm, the rest of the band there for the sole purpose of supporting him. It was a roller coaster of a tune, an improvised, every which way, surprise surprise surprise solo.
The postage stamp was placed ever so carefully in the top right corner of the envelope. The envelope was licked and sealed very neatly, the address written in beautiful black ink. She kissed the letter one last time for luck before pushing it into the mailbox, where it slithered down to join the rest of the mail in waiting.
She'd been taken hostage and she was scared. Lying in the corner, no light coming in through her blindfold, not sure whether it was night or day, where she was, who was in the room with her. The concrete floor seemed to have grown harder and more uncomfortable over the hours. She didn't know if anyone would come to rescue her in time. She could feel nothing but terror.
the mother bear takes her cubs into the den to keep them out of the cold, out of the rain. They huddle together for warmth, protecting each other from the elements outside, from the harsh reality of wind and rain, comforting each other, a family.