I love stuffed animals, there's something about them that feels very whimsical and harkens back to the days of my youth when the simple things made me smile. I can picture this little stuffed cat, perhaps nestled amongst some leaves at the bottom of a tree, looking over a child who's running through a meadow of flowers at dusk, a warm summer breeze gently running through the meadow.
The field of flowers that bears resemblance to the sea, as the stalks of tall grass laps gently in the wind. It's almost as if time is standing still, because when you're a child time means nothing to you, everything seems to go on forever, days blending into one.
However, it's getting late and surely you must get home before dark sets in and your mother begins to worry. So you gather up your faithful feline companion into your arms and all the while the wind seems to guide you back home, gingerly urging you forward as it pushes against your back.
Yeah, not so much a story as a feeling, or an idea. I guess it just makes me feel nostalgic. Anyway, speaking of dusk, it's getting dark outside and I need to walk my loyal companion, and stout Shiba Inu, Watson. Till Later~!