Summer Meadow

The hot summer sun beat down on his unprotected head as he lay in the tall grass. He watched the girl from a short distance, the sharp blades of green, tickling his nose. He shifted position to avoid sneezing. The distinct aroma of wild strawberries assailed his nostrils as he crushed them beneath him. If he'd been fond of berries, the smell might have made his mouth water, but he had no use for them, so his mouth remained dry. The stalks and leaves tickled his stomach, but he ignored the slight itch.

A clean girlish scent wafted along the breeze in a combination that was hers, and hers alone. Others might smell of oils and sunbathed skin, but only she made the alluring scent that attracted and thrilled him. He would know her by that smell, always. He settled down to watch her, waiting for just the right moment to give in to his urges.

She sat up on a soft blanket that lumped up in places where the vegetation beneath it tried to poke through. She was all alone except for him, in a vast meadow of sunshine, grass, berries, and wild flowers. She brushed her long dark hair with a soft brush in leisurely strokes. The sunlight played with the swirls of brunette waves, that turned them golden in places, and then copper, as she turned her head.

A small bucket of newly plucked berries sat beside her blanket, with a bottle of water, and a pocket book. He had followed her all the way from the house, over the creek, and into the meadow without her knowledge. The old split rail fence and deep overgrown brambles along it, hid him from her view. She was all alone, defenceless. No one within hearing distance, no one to help her, or hinder him ... completely alone.

She wore jeans and a long sleeved shirt to protect her tender arms and legs from the brutal scratches and itches of berry picking. Occasionally, she chose a ripe fruit from the bucket and popped it in her mouth, as he watched from a distance, and waited. Insects that buzzed above his head, accompanied his solitary observance.

At last, she lay down on her stomach, her arms folded beneath her head. It was time. He ran swift and low behind her, without a sound to warn her. He jumped on her back, the length of him stretched out along the curved length of her spine.

A high pitched scream assaulted his sensitive hearing, as she rolled sideways, and threw him off of her.

"Rufus! Naughty boy! You scared me."

Rufus sat and regarded her silently, then belly crawled up beside her. She picked him up and scratched him under the chin, then stroked his thick grey fur. He purred happily. He loved the stalking game, but he loved to be cuddled by his Mommie person, more.

 

The End

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