Juniper’s Perfect Day

The stag stood in the meadow, and Juniper gazed at him, both with admiration and a strange envy.

How she would so love to be that stag! Wild and free, and so attractive, as far as animals go. Little else was more attractive looking then deer, she thought, with their slender legs, erect heads, alert, proud and graceful and kindly in the eyes, and the males’ antlers – oh! She could go on forever about those. Arcing, curving crowns of solid, stoic beauty. Going velvet with the seasons. All that glorious, divine weight. She imagined having a meadow for a kitchen, a forest for a bedroom, the rivers and rolling hills her staircases and halls. Her schooling would be the crux of nature; her classes the morning dew, the howls of wolves, the chills of autumn encroaching, blankets of clover, racing hoof beats when running was needed and what a wonder running would be like. The moon and the sun would be her gods, and, if she were a Christian stag the robin would be the Holy Spirit. But, only if she were a Christian stag, and she was not certain she would be. Maybe she would be an atheist stag, to which a robin would just be a robin, though that sounded right fine to her. The sky was so heaven blue today it didn’t seem real, and slowly drifting towards the sun there was a cloud shaped like Cerberus, the three headed hound. All was right perfect.

However, she decided, it wasn’t quite perfect. She looked to the stag, his snout down, nibbling the grasses, and his neck he suddenly stretched upwards, as though also looking at the Cerberus cloud. Swiftly, in a rotation of his handsome head, to Juniper he turned, and their eyes met.

Now, the day was perfect.

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