The Pet Diaries, part 1

The Pet Diaries, part 1

It’s a sunny wednesday and thunder is in the air.

Little boys run around the yard hoping to find a mouse, a bee or a beetle: since a dog is forbidden, they must find other pets.

Those pets rarely live longer then 2 days.

Huddling together they admire a worm.
I cringe and take a step back, relieved to be sent to find a suitable house for the worm (pet houses are destroyed almost as fast as their inhabitants decease.)

Now the hunt for worm food is on. I am asked for my expert opinion on worm food, so I Google it.
A rainworm? It eats dirt.This sets of a round of awed, grossed out exclamations.

IT EATS DIRT AND POOPS IT OUT.

It is the stuff little boys live for. Who needs a dog when you can have a snakish, blubbery creature that eats dirt, poops it out and which you can cut in two without killing it?

Their life is full.

I stand inside, watching them through the window so I don’t have to stifle my giggles.

The scent of the rain that is to come swirls through the summer air, mixing the joy of little boys’ laughter and the smell of a summer evening like a seasoned chef, fixing it as a memory in my head.

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