The Morning

The morning light pryed open Grace's eyelids like a screwdriver would a paint can lid. There was something different about the way it brightened the room, and she laid still listening to the the quiet. It was abnormally bright and abnormally quiet. She new before she looked out a window what that meant. "Snow," she thought to herself. "Its snowed."

Murray struggled to his feet and said, "You up Grace?" She answered in the affirmative. I can tell you that she did not want to be up. Grace longed to snuggle deeper into the blankets and dream of the smell of fresh baking bread, and the aroma of coffee.

She got up.

Prunella Fig-Pink was sitting up in the living room, with her blankets scattered around her. Grace's pajamas hung loosely from one shoulder and her hair, although clean,was twisted around her in a tangled mess. Grace greeted her as she headed to the kitchen and made coffee. "Good morning Prunella," said Grace with a half of a yawn.

"Good Morning, Grace," said Prunella, "Why didn't you come to my Party?"

Grace took a deep breath. "Remember we talked about this last night Prunella? Remember what I said? I honestly don't remember why I didn't come to your party...I don't remember. Its been a very long time ago," Grace finished slightly agitated but trying hard to hang onto being calm. They had discussed this at lenght last night.

Prunella's eyes well up with tears.

Grace Tenderstitch watched with concern as Prunella hung her head and dripped tears onto the blankets. Things had gotten very complicated in a very short period of time, and she longed to sort them out. There was not to be an easy fix though, and Grace sighed deeply.
Murray and Grace exchanged looks. His eyebrows rose and he cocked his head to the side. "Wacko Crackers for Breakfast,' whispered Grace, gesturing towards Prunella.
Murray followed Grace into the kitchen as he said, "I think she needs more help than we can give her, honestly Grace, she is stuck!"
Grace laughed. "I am talking to my dog, who I think talks to me, I have been attacked by Pie-rats, and have a triage area and clinic set up in the basement for wounded animals, staffed by Red Cross Nurses that are MICE. I think I might have one or two squirrels in my own attic," she finished pointing to her head.
"She is Not Present," continued Murray. "she is somewhere stuck back in the past, waiting for her Party."
Grace acknowledged this Nodding her head. "I am wondering what would change if there was a Party...if that would help free her of this....fixation."
"You think if you had a Birthday Party for Prunella, that it would help? We are in the middle of a war with the Pie-rats Grace," pointed out Murray with some exasperation. "Hardly the time to launch a full scale Birthday Party!" He concluded. "inside the World
of Wacko Crackers...that's where we are Grace. I think she may need medication, and that would require a trip to one of those Head doctors...what do you all call it? Psychiatrip?" Murray finished and went to lay down on his favorite kitchen rug in front of the hearth.
The cat door opened and Ernie the weasel stuck his head under the flap. "No signs of the Pie-rats Grace," he said. "Its snowed," he added as an afterthought. He withdrew his head only to trust it through the cat door again with the following query "Any Breakfast?"
"watcha want this morning Ernie?" Grace asked..."Scones again?"
Ernie nodded and once again withdrew through the cat door, closing off the draft that had chilled Grace's ankles and made her shiver a bit.
There was a feeling of comfort and safety in the kitchen at the Baggaraggs. Grace made the scones and as the aroma of the coffee brewing drifted though the house, it brought with it a momentary contentment. The Pie-rats were gone. Where, no one seemed to know.