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“A Little Distraction” by Field T. Mouse [18+]

Today’s story is “A Little Distraction” by Field T. Mouse, and you can find more of his stories at squirrel.sofurry.com.

Read for you by Khaki, your faithful fireside companion.

Transcript
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Today I'm reading an adult story for mature listeners.

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If that's not your cup of tea,

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or if there are youngsters listening,

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you can skip this one and

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I'll have a new story for you next time.

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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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I’m Khaki, your faithful fireside companion,

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and today’s story is

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“A Little Distraction”

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by Field T. Mouse,

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and you can find more of his stories

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at squirrel.sofurry.com

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“A Little Distraction”

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by Field T. Mouse

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Meadow paced back and forth in her darkened bedroom,

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furless, pink foot-paws slapping on the cool, wood floor.

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Pat-a-pat-pat. Staring down at her smartphone, the petite,

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golden harvest mouse,

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wearing nothing but her pelt,

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obsessively refreshed and double-checked the weather maps.

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Outside, the April wind picked up considerably,

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making the old, rustic farmhouse creak on its foundation.

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Distant thunder rattled the windows.

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A storm was coming.

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A big one. Just like the forecast had said.

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Just like the dreams I’ve been having …

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Meadow was half-tempted

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to head to the kitchen for a midnight snack.

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She wasn’t hungry,

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but it might get the taste of adrenaline out of her mouth.

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Cookies? Would that help? Hmm.

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I don’t know. If you give a mouse a cookie …

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Ultimately, she decided to stay put.

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Her knees were too wobbly to make the trip.

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Another glance at the weather app showed a menacing wall of red and orange

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almost upon her rural location.

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Like a predator. And I’m its prey.

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Nature always wins.

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The dreams she’d been having

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—more like nightmares, really

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—started out like this.

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With a storm brewing.

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And she’d wait in her house for it to come, helpless,

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unable to escape. The walls would fall away,

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the world swirling chaotically around her.

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And then she’d wake up.

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She never reached the end.

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“Meadow?” She stopped,

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blinked, and looked to her bed.

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And the shadowy figure in it.

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A lamp switched on.

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Meadow shielded her blue eyes

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with a paw, pupils adjusting.

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“What … ” There was a bucktoothed yawn.

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“What are you doing?”

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her boyfriend, Fib, asked,

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squinting back at her.

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The male harvest mouse’s voice was groggy.

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His whiskers twitched.

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Meadow’s phone vibrated.

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Instead of answering Fib, she looked down. A new

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weather alert!

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Fib yawned again and sat up fully,

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the sheets sliding off his naked chest.

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He was six years younger than her.

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Only twenty-nine,

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with a nice, slender physique.

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His fur was patterned exactly like Meadow’s:

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creamy white down the front-middle,

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rich gold everywhere else.

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Though his ‘gold’ was a few shades lighter.

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“Butterscotch?” Fib said,

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using his term of endearment for her.

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“Are you okay?” Meadow,

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realizing she still hadn’t answered,

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flashed her phone at him.

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“There’s … there’s a tornado watch.

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And a severe thunderstorm warning, too.”

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She paused ominously before blurting out,

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“What if a tornado hits the house?!”

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Fib started to reply

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but she talked over him.

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“I don’t even have a basement!”

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Just that super-creepy crawlspace. Choosing between death and going down there would make anyone pause.

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“We’d probably get buried alive in rubble.

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If we don’t get sucked up into the funnel.”

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I probably should’ve had those cookies, after all.

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Might’ve helped me survive longer.

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Meadow began to pace again,

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her tail flailing.

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“We’re so far from town,

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and it’s pitch-dark, and the roads will be blocked with debris, so the authorities won’t be able to send help in time, and—” “Hey!”

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Fib, hearing enough,

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hopped out of bed.

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He quickly went to her, putting his paws on her arms to keep her still.

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She was trembling.

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“Slow down.” His blue eyes met hers,

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voice gentle. “That’s not gonna happen.”

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“Which part?” “Any of it,” Fib said.

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“Everything’s gonna be fine.

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It’s just normal weather.”

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“How do you know?” Meadow asked, unable to shake the fear.

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“It’s my job to know,”

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Fib said. He was the morning weekday weatherman for an Indianapolis TV station.

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Meadow, through their association,

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had even been on his newscast once or twice. “Didn’t

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you watch my forecast this morning?”

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Meadow nodded. “Yeah … ”

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She always did. “I said we’d get some heavy storms after nightfall.”

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“I know,” Meadow whispered.

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“But … ” She hadn’t told him about the dreams.

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She’d told Petra. The rat,

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her best friend and co-worker, loved to give advice.

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Usually unsolicited.

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“That just makes me feel even worse.”

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“Why?” “Being so nervous when you know so much about it?”

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Meadow lowered her head.

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“You must think I’m stupid … ”

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“Butterscotch,” Fib cooed. “Don’t say that.

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I would never think that.”

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He wrapped his arms around her.

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“Fears aren’t always rational. I mean,

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I’m afraid of things, too.”

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“Like what?” Meadow asked,

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chin lifting. Fib wasn’t a stereotypical shy and soft-spoken mouse.

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No, he was extroverted.

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A confident go-getter who relished attention.

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It suited his profession.

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Media jobs could get pretty cutthroat.

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To survive and advance,

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you couldn’t be a pushover.

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“Like, for instance,” Fib said, trying to come up with a list of fears.

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“I don’t like … deep water?”

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“We’re landlocked.”

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“Or wasps! Hate wasps.” “Are there wasps

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in the city?”

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“And caves,” Fib added.

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“When were you ever in a cave?” Meadow asked.

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“Did a fluff piece one time, for a station in Kentucky.

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Right out of college.”

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Meadow’s fears sensed an opening and rushed back in.

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“The crawlspace is like a cave. You know?

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There’s only one entrance … on the outside of the house.”

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She skipped a beat,

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though her heart didn’t. It beat faster.

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“We gotta time it so we get there before the tornado comes … ”

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“There’s not going to be a tornado,”

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Fib re-emphasized, hugging her tighter.

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“My phone would be going crazy if there was.”

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Meadow, having no clothes to put her own phone in,

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did her best to clutch it as she leaned into her lover.

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“You know what else I’m afraid of?”

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Fib whispered. “What … ”

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“Living without you.”

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Meadow’s eyes watered.

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It was such a cheesy, obvious line,

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but it got to her anyway.

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She squeezed her eyes shut

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and hugged him tightly.

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“You good?” Fib asked.

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“Yeah … ” FLASH! An eerie glow filled the room,

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visible even through her eyelids.

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BOOM! Meadow’s eyes snapped back open.

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“I take it back!” Fib massaged her sides and rubbed his cheek to hers. “Just relax.”

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She tried to. She really did.

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It wasn’t working!

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The root cause of her fears wasn’t some surface-level thing that could be swept away.

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It was deep down,

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hard to reach. The wind was howling, now. Madly, in a desperate rage.

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The house, under duress,

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was making spooky noises.

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Fib would probably say that meant the house had ‘character.’

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He was always putting a positive spin on things.

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I’m not a negative individual, am I?

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The house was old.

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A cozy building, single story.

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Built by Meadow’s grandparents way back when.

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She’d inherited it from them when they’d passed.

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But the salary she made working as a receptionist at a dental office

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wasn’t large enough to sink into cosmetic repairs.

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Like new windows …

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Fib, who made several times what she did,

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leased a swanky place in the northern reaches of the city

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a half-hour from his TV station.

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He was spending the weekend at Meadow’s,

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out in the unincorporated boonies.

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Petra was always asking when they’d move in together.

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Or get married. How would that change things?

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Would it make me happier?

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Meadow recalled a conversation she’d had with her friend earlier in the day …

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Meadow’s ears swiveled,

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walking into the office at 7:40

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AM to the loud, rhythmic rapping

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of the 1980’s rat group Apocalypse-86.

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Walking behind the reception area, the harvest mouse put down her purse

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and warned a head-bobbing Petra,

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“The bosses won’t like this.”

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“Don’t worry,” the brown rat assured,

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mouthing some of the lyrics before adding,

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“I’ll change it back to conformist ... I mean

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‘easy’ ... listening before they get here.”

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Meadow decided to do it for her,

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changing it to the office default.

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“You’re not very good at sticking it to the man,”

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Petra accused. “I thought you said being a ‘goody-good’ made me hotter.”

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“Well, in terms of wanting to corrupt you?

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Yeah. But it’s a huge turn-off the rest of the time,” the rat said.

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“Thanks,” Meadow deadpanned, starting her morning routine.

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The harvest mouse woke up the sleeping computers,

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turned on the central air,

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and opened the blinds on all the windows.

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Then she went into the cleaning and operating areas

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and turned on the lights and equipment so they’d be ready for the hygienists and doctors to use.

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They’d start filtering in at 7:55.

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Always last minute.

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Appointments began at 8:00.

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When Meadow returned to the reception area,

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Petra was seated at her computer.

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She was pulling up the files of the first hour’s patients.

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Without looking away from the screen, the rat said,

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“Supposed to storm tonight.”

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“I know.” Meadow briefly wandered to the window and looked out of it.

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The skies were clear, and the sun was bright.

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The trees, fresh with young leaves,

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wore the light like a promise.

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Is this what they mean by ‘the calm before?’

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“Ever think that your dreams might be related to Fibster?

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Maybe he’s the tornado.” “Mm?”

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Meadow blinked and turned around.

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“What? How?” The rat scoffed.

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“He’s a weatherman,

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and you’re having dreams about the fucking weather? Come on.”

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She has a point. “Storms in dreams represent change and shit,”

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the rat continued,

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swiveling her chair toward Meadow.

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“I looked it up. And if there’s one thing you hate,”

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she said, pointing her tail at the other rodent,

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“it’s life changes.”

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Meadow, furrowing her brow, wanted to object …

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But Petra kept going.

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“He’s the tornado.

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You’re the house.” “Fib is not a lethal force of nature,”

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Meadow argued, walking to her chair and sitting down. She crossed her arms.

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“Nah, he’s an over-eager nerd with delusions of coolness.”

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“Hey!” “But I guess he’s a hottie …

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for a mouse,” Petra allowed.

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“I’m still glad I set you two up.”

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“Again, being in the same room when we met doesn’t mean

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you’re responsible for us being together.”

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“Haven’t you heard that one law of physics? ‘Mice

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at rest stay at rest until acted upon by an outside force’?”

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“Must’ve missed class that day,” Meadow said.

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“Anyway, this is about what he represents to your subconscious.”

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The rat leaned back and spread her arms.

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“Maybe it’s a self-esteem thing?

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He’s ambitious. You’re not.

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He’s on TV. You’re not.

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Maybe you don’t think you’re good enough?”

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Meadow’s whiskers twitched.

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Petra continued,

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“He’s coming in to your traditional, little life

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and threatening to uproot it, and it terrifies you.

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You want your relationship with Fib to be this safe,

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undefined thing. But the longer you’re together, the harder it is to keep it that way.”

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“You’re really one to talk,”

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Meadow finally said with a huff.

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How many partners did the rat have?

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“Hey, just cause I’m poly doesn’t mean I’m not committed.”

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“Sorry. I know. I just … ”

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Meadow sighed, trailing off.

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“What makes you think I’m not?”

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“Because someone secure in their commitments doesn’t worry as much as you do.

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And you worry all the time.

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Not saying you gotta

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marry the dude. Live apart, or don’t. Whatever.

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You just gotta stop fearing the possibilities.

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Go with the flow. Have fun.”

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“Is that all?” Meadow mumbled,

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rubbing at her cheeks.

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“To start.” “That’s ridiculous.”

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“Then why you doing that thing? Mm?”

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Petra went, mimicking Meadow’s motion.

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“Granted, it’s cute, but it’s still a nervous tic.”

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Meadow dropped her paws.

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She knew Petra was probably right.

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But she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

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“Are you going to be criticizing me all day?”

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“Only cause I love ya.”

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The mouse blushed.

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“You love me, too?” Petra said for her.

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“How sweet.” Turning back to her computer,

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the rat squirmed and then scowled,

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reaching to turn the radio volume further down.

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It was barely audible,

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now. “Much better.” Collecting herself, Meadow said,

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“They’re just gonna make you turn it back up when they get here.

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You can always put it on the country station. They like that, too.”

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“Girl, does this look like a honky holler?”

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Back in the present,

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the rain was a steady, omnipresent din.

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The storm was fully upon them.

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FLASH! BOOM! Meadow tensed. “Eek!”

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“Come back to bed?” Fib murmured.

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“I’m too wired. I won’t be able to sleep … ”

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“Who said anything about sleep?

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What you need,” Fib said,

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touching his pink, sniffy nose to hers,

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“is a little distraction.”

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“I do?” she asked. “Mm-hmm.” Their mousey whiskers brushed.

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Fib delivered a dainty peck to her lips.

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“Luckily, I have just the thing to keep your mind off the storm until it passes.”

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He was already tugging her back to the bed.

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Meadow squeaked and went with him.

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The rain was practically a monsoon, now!

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I hope the roof doesn’t start to leak again. There’s that spot in the ceiling in the porch? And one in the living room. And—

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“Ladies first,” Fib said,

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gesturing for her to lay atop the mattress.

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Meadow, putting her phone by the lamp, sat on the edge.

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She worriedly glanced at the window before scooting herself to the middle of the sheets.

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She laid back, head on a pillow and paws folded on her belly,

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staring at the shadows on the ceiling.

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“Comfy?” “No,” she said stubbornly. “Well,

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don’t worry. This is a fail-proof method of relaxation.

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A very ancient technique,”

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Fib said with a flirty, little smile.

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He switched off the lamp.

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The room returned to darkness.

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“As old as life itself.”

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The male harvest mouse then crawled into bed,

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moving to fours above her.

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“Must work pretty well, then,”

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Meadow said, finally getting the gist.

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She felt her cheeks blushing hotly.

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FLASH! Fib’s figure was silhouetted by the lightning.

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BOOM! “I felt that in my bones,”

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Meadow insisted shakily.

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“Focus on me,” was all Fib said.

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“My voice, my scent.

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My touch.” Meadow nodded.

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She reached up for him, desperate for a hug.

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Fib let her arms bring him down,

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bodies flush, fur meshing.

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The two mice cuddled for a moment.

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Meadow sighed. “Now, to get you good and distracted?” Fib resumed.

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“We gotta start with the extremities.” “Yeah?” “Mm

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-hmm. Take the ears, for instance. You know that old saying?

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Ears,” Fib started,

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nuzzling his muzzle against hers … “ … are

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the gateway to a mouse,”

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she finished. FLASH!

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One-Mississippi, Two-Mississippi, Three— BA-BOOM!

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Meadow held her breath.

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Even laying down, she felt

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dizzy with anxiety.

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Was the wind even faster, now?

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She could hear more creaking than before, too.

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Groaning. Straining.

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Or was that the bed?

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Could be the bed frame. Maybe.

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“Maybe … maybe I should check my phone again.”

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Meadow decided, trying to sit back up.

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“There could be a tornado warning. You know? Maybe just issued?

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I should really look.”

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She started to reach for her phone. “Ah

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-ah! You don’t need to,”

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Fib said, securing her wrists in his paws

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and pinning her arms above her head.

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Meadow felt a submissive flutter.

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She swallowed.

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“Oh … o-okay … ” “Relax,” he repeated,

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tongue meeting an ear-rim.

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“Everything’s gonna be …

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just … fine.” Fib licked around the edge of an erogenous lobe.

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The left one. The flesh was thin and delicate,

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hot and smooth. His buckteeth took intermittent,

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careful nibbles. All Meadow could hear were his breaths.

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Soon, her ears throbbed,

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sizzling with sensitivity.

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It became harder to think.

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The heat spilled to her face,

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leaving her hazy and flushed.

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She arched and moaned.

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Fib eased up, nosing her face and neck.

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He let her recover for a minute before continuing,

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“Now, from one end …

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to the other.” A paw reached for her tail.

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He gripped it at the base.

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Close-fisted, he stroked it.

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He brought the wiggling tip to his lips,

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kissing and then outright suckling on it.

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It wasn’t as sensitive as her ears,

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but Meadow had no complaints.

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While he played with her prehensile tail,

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Fib snaked his own between her legs,

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around a thigh, and toward her sex.

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The tip teased and prodded

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and then slipped inside her.

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Just a few inches at first.

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Then a bit more. And a bit more …

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Meadow arched. “Ah!” “Can’t leave these unattended,”

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Fib said, a paw resting upon her breasts.

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He fondled one. The other? He leaned in to mouth and kiss it,

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suckling on a sensitive nipple.

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Meadow whined, her pink paws going to the back of her boyfriend’s head.

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Fib traded one for the other,

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the one above her heart.

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While he was doing this,

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his tail withdrew from her sex.

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His fingers took its place,

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purposefully grazing her clitoris before drifting

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and curling their way into her passage.

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Meadow arched her body.

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Fib used his weight to pin her back down.

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His muzzle found its way back to hers, and he whispered against her chin,

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“I want you.” His erection poked against her thigh.

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Lightheaded with lust,

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she tilted in for a kiss.

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Fib captured her lips.

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The mice squeaked in throaty unison.

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Meadow spread her legs

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and wrapped them around his body.

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Lips smacking apart,

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Fib shimmied his hips

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until his cock was kissing her flower.

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He teased her, glans moving up and down her vulva, making her think about his next move.

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Making her even more distracted.

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Distracted and desperate.

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Recalling the flustered thrill she’d shown at his earlier act of dominance,

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he breathed, “Ask for it.”

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“I … I j-just … ” He nibbled on her chin.

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“What was that?” “I w-want you,

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too.” “To do what?” Meadow whimpered.

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“You can say it,” Fib murmured.

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“It’s just us. It’s okay.”

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Her fingers curled in his back-fur.

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“I want you to … fuck me,”

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she breathed. “Good girl.”

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Meadow shivered hotly.

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Fib, grunting with satisfaction,

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finally entered the other mouse.

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An easy, smooth motion.

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Raw and elemental.

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Soon, his large, fuzzy balls

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were nestled to her loins.

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Meadow heard a hammering.

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But, this time, it wasn’t thunder.

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Is that my heartbeat?

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Or his? As close as they were, fused as one,

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maybe it was both. She didn’t know. “More,” she begged, appetite spiking. This was her midnight snack. Fib pulled back and then humped forward, repeating the motion

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until he settled into an unbroken rhythm.

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“Faster!” Fib ramped up the pace.

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Meadow whimpered beneath him.

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He was rutting her, now.

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In a huffing, hurried way.

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The room felt hotter.

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Everything was burning up.

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She felt she might melt! Oh,

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the friction! Their genitals squelched.

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Slick and sweet. Fur flew,

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though Meadow couldn’t see it.

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But, from experience, she knew it was.

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Shedding and swirling through the air.

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The mattress bounced.

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Her paws groped his furry ass,

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urging him on. Meadow felt a desperation building inside her,

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an absolute need for release.

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There was no outside world.

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Just this. Just us.

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When her orgasm struck, there was a flash.

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The room lit up. With a thunderous boom,

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Fib slammed to a hilt.

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Meadow gasped and cried out,

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body convulsing as her sex spasmed.

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She clenched around him,

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wetter than any rain,

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head twisting about on her pillow.

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The pleasure was all-encompassing.

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Body, mind, and soul.

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Fib, hilting before going lax,

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moaned against her cheek as he pulsed and filled her with his seed.

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In the aftermath,

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they held each other,

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basking in shared afterglow.

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It was Fib who finally said,

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“Looks like made it through the storm, after all.”

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Meadow blinked. Did we?

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She’d almost forgotten about it!

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Meadow listened. Sure enough,

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the rain had stopped.

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The thunder was moving off.

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They were going to be okay!

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Everything was going to be fine …

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So … why do I feel like I want to cry?

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When she didn’t reply,

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Fib asked softly,

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“You alright?” “Yeah,

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it … that was great … ” In the climactic explosion,

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her emotions must’ve been flung to the fore like shrapnel.

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She tried to dodge them,

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push them back down.

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Tried to hide from them like she always did.

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But it was too late.

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Meadow asked, with a vulnerable whisper,

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“Fib. You … you won’t ever get tired of me, will you?”

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“What do you mean?” Fib asked,

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surprised by the question.

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“I know I’m just a poor country girl, and I’m older, and I …

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but I can’t … ” Her words were getting stuck.

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“I don’t want to lose you,”

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she pleaded, voice wavering.

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“Hey … ” She couldn’t hold back the tears.

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“Meadow … ” “I’m s-sorry … ”

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“For what?” Fib asked, nuzzling her face.

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“For being so insecure and nervous … ”

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Meadow sniffled. “All the time.”

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She took a few ragged breaths.

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“And for killing the mood … ”

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“You haven’t ruined anything.

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You’re perfect,” Fib breathed intimately,

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kissing at her tears.

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“I’m not … ” “You are to me,”

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he said patiently.

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“You’ll never lose me.

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I love you so much.”

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Meadow closed her eyes,

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hugging him with everything she had.

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Arms, legs, tail. “I love you, too.”

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Fib kissed her, passionately.

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Lips surrendering to his,

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Meadow slid her paws up his back,

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fingers curling in his fur.

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When the kiss broke,

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they snuggled. Still regaining her breath,

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Meadow sniffed and smiled.

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“Are … heh, are you going to tell your viewers to use this method for ‘storm survival’?”

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“I think the FCC would want us to keep that tip to ourselves,”

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Fib said with a giggle.

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Growing limp, he was forced to pull out.

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Wriggling aside, he spooned up behind her.

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Meadow breathed easy,

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feeling safe in his arms.

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Fib was a balm for her existential fear and doubts.

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But, at the same time,

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being with him was also the cause.

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I’ve never been this deeply in love with anyone.

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It feels wonderful, but …

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It’s a little scary.

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It was a paradox.

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Maybe Petra was right, and the solution was simple.

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Meadow had to learn to be at peace with the ‘what-ifs.’

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Had to let life happen.

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She’d never reached the end of that storm dream because it wasn’t about the ending.

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It was about the experience.

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The experience of being in love.

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How it can rearrange your world.

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How you should stop fighting it …

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Meadow yawned. Drifting back to sleep,

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she knew better dreams awaited her tonight.

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This was “A Little Distraction”

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by Field T. Mouse,

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read for you by Khaki,

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your faithful fireside companion.

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Thank you for listening

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to The Voice of Dog

About the Podcast

Show artwork for The Voice of Dog
The Voice of Dog
Furry stories to warm the ol' cockles, read by Rob MacWolf and guests. If you have a story that would suit the show, you can get in touch with @VoiceOfDog@meow.social on Mastodon, @voiceofdog.bsky.social on Blue Sky, or @Theodwulf on Telegram.

About your host

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Khaki