She was trapped now. This was going to be an ending to forget, and she was sure her friends had already forgotten her. Here she was, trying to cross her third road when the rats rose up from the ditches and kidnapped her.
Sure, they said things like “you can’t do that” and “you won’t survive”.
But she had already crossed three roads so far!
She knew she had to cross this one too.
Even if it was four times the size.
Even if the vehicles were going far faster than she had ever seen.
Even if there were fences on each edge, and another one in the middle.
She was going to cross that road.
But possibly not now, now that she’s a captive of the rats.
I glanced out the window as I passed, and was startled to see a sock blow by. Then a second sock, that naturally was not a match for the first. I stopped to watch, and marveled as the sock storm unravelled before me. Clearly now was not the best time to strike out on a journey.
This was not the first time I had encountered an unusual storm here. I remembered seeing a storm of licorice vines. That had really painted the sky red.
I turned away from the window and returned to my table by the hearth. A large schooner of ale was waiting, and I eagerly anticipated working my way through it. As befits the time and place, the beer’s ample head was at the bottom of the mug.