So … this is a challenge, kindly launched by my splendid real virtual twin sister, Saba Niaz Siddique.
Drop by, if you have time to love, the shining blog of my shining beloved sister : Saba
Oh Saba, what did you want me to do? I have to take up the challenge and forget for one night Altair’s serious dreams.
Here are the words I have to manage – well – I’ll manage… :
Fairy Doll Moon Apple Canvas Oil pastels
I already have immense possibilities: do you want me to tell you the terrible story of this so pretty doll who accidentally bit an apple? A piece of that apple got stuck in her throat – no, that’s another story.
So in order: One day, the so loved Fairy, happy and talented, named Saba, had an immense joy. Saba had in a corner of her heart very powerful – and very innocent – loves: she loved like a sister a girl from the East, and her cat. These were not her only loves, of course – they were her loves necessary to my story. Then, this day, her cat had given birth to a whole litter of adorable kittens, well rolled in a ball around their little mommy with pointed ears – .
Saba was over the moon. She thanked God for this priceless gift-and even offered a leftover bone to the big dog on her street: it was a day to celebrate joy-even the stray, slender, heavy-eyed dogs participated.
The little ones were growing – their eyes had opened, blue-eyes – the blue of the most sparkling nights, with all the stars in the sky laughing at their little muzzles.
Mother was thrilled with her lovely litter. Sheba was melting with tenderness.
Then mother cat, to amuse her little ones, one morning allowed herself to drag the old red dress of an old Saba doll into their bed.
Saba has a big heart – but that doesn’t mean she can accept everything. When she saw the kittens tearing the pretty ruffled dress of her childhood doll, her blood only went around and she scolded, scolded the mother cat well.
The cat looked at Saba, with her big calm green eyes that said: ah yes? you’re getting angry? for that?
As the kittens had tangled in the ruffles, and seemed so happy, Saba gave up the fight and left them the dress.
Mother returned to her cubs – and sulked a little.
And there they all were, hidden in the ruffles of the red dress, their little muzzles chirping like birds when hunger took them – and hunger often took them – day after day.
Alas, on a night when the moon forms such an extraordinary crescent, a nail of light in a shower of stars, Saba the fairy who knew how to read the hearts of men came out to the balcony. She looked at the moon so fine and so bright, she looked at all those stars that looked like they were laughing and she loved to be there, alive, happy and loved by God.
And when she came back to her room – to their room – she shared the room with mummy-cat and her little ones, the joyful diaper of the litter was empty.
Kittens, no trace. Nothing. From the mother, not a shadow. It was as if they had all disappeared, caught up in some ugly witchcraft.
Wondering how I’m going to place my apple? So am I.
Cats don’t eat apples – and we’ve never seen anyone jump on apples when they are in pain.
Well, Saba looked everywhere. She turned her whole house upside down. She went down to the street, she looked in the streams, in the bushes, in the small gardens.
She remembered everything: the big stray dog that had been hanging around for weeks, looking for other bones, and had perhaps only taken a bite out of the litter.
Of those people who stalk cats to sell their beautiful furs.
Of those cars that pass by making so much noise – scaring all the animals and killing them without even a thought of pain.
Every silence broke her.
Every empty hiding place increased her heartbreak.
Every nook and cranny that said nothing weighed so heavy, so heavy, on her beautiful soul.
Where were they?
Who had taken them?
Why? why tonight? why on this beautiful night?
She called to her cats with all the strength of her heart and soul and the great, great fear she felt for them.
But the world remained silent.
Saba returned home. She sat in the big armchair where she used to sit to dream, pray and think. Saw a little apple glow in the dark – she picked up the phone and called her real fake sister from the East – who – she said – knew a lot about cats.
The sister listened – watched her cat from home, who was pathetically jumping into an empty box.
And then remembered the famous catcher trick – which worked wonders, when the food trick didn’t work.
So what’s going to attract a cat?
A box – that’s true, but Saba didn’t have one.
A piece of paper on a desk? Saba only had a canvas, to paint the moon tonight.
That’s the beautiful idea.
Pretend to forget the cat and the cat will come back.
Stand on the balcony, with your little table.
Put the canvas on the little table.
Don’t forget to take your oil pastels – they are a fundamental element in attracting the cat – because they are easy to catch – they roll – they fall – a real pleasure of a cat’s life.
And start drawing the moon of this night –
You’ll see – with a small paw, two pointed ears will first arrive.
Then, an oil pastel – bang – will disappear.
Fallen there – what chance – under a paw? Whose paw?
Aaaah it’s good, Saba, you had forgotten us to look at the moon.
You hadn’t forgotten?
Are you really sad?
Can I lie down on your canvas? Damn, – well, washing your paws, that’s a human thing.
Well, since you were really sad to have lost me – let’s see – if I take your red, your yellow, your green – your green is beautiful – your blue too, oh but you have lots of different blues – I’ll show you where the little ones are.
Do not forget to put them back in the skirt of the doll – they became large, it is not with my 15 centimeters that I can carry that.
You are not angry – no – it is me who was angry – vexed yes madam – to prefer the moon, what a weird idea.
It’s a story without morals – cats don’t need morals.
❤ Thank you so much, my beloved sister ❤
You can play with Saba’s words – if you go and see what she writes – and she writes with a real beautiful beating heart.
I think I have to propose words to whoever wants them: alone, all of them, in order, in disorder: at random the first word will be: gauntlet.
Tracking by : tile
myrrh – have fun, if you feel like it.