Black and White Sunday

This morning I gazed at my back yard, radiating contentedness with my hands curled around a cup of coffee and my bare toes curled around the sill of the door. We have unseasonably beautiful weather here today, 50 degrees with a light breeze, and I watched Bastas and Midna drowse in a strong, warm sunbeam as the wind carried in the scent of dried grass and ruffled through their fur.

I frowned, unsure where Zelda was, and opened my mouth to call her when I heard the thunderous thump thump-scritch thump-thump-scritch of her paddle-like feet slapping the concrete and her nails digging in for purchase. I turned in time to catch her full-armed punch straight in the chest instead of my arm, saving myself from being coated with hot coffee but trading it for a raking claw down my front.

She dropped to her feet, wriggled with pleasure, and tore off to pounce on her sleeping sister, while I cradled an arm across my upper torso and wondered what sort of ornament to put in my brand new nipple piercing.

Selah.

Midna

Zelda

Bastas