1
The Eve of Christmas Waltz
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It was another cold, winter day in Cat Felicity, the land of cats. The sun shadows had faded away slowly as twinkling Christmas lights, and plumes of chimney smoke filled the forest. Winter to cats is a time for celebration, like all Petupian lands, and the traditional belief is that festivals could ward off the cold, misery and even death. Some Northern lands, like the home of penguins have winter festivals every day. But in Cat Felicity, it’s only once a year, called, Christmas Waltz.
For weeks, Ms. Tova, the interior designer cat and her kitty crew dressed the Bradberry Hall, where the Christmas Waltz is held every winter. The Catorian interiors were simply exquisite with walls glazed in glittering crystal, frosted hollies and pine cones spiraling down pillars, sterling tinsels and baby mistletoes adorned ceiling arches, and standing in the center of the dance floor, the tallest, loveliest, white Christmas tree one could ever imagine.
Just then, the Mayor of Cat Felicity walked into the hall with absolute delight on his face.
“Mayor Wibs, it’s so nice of you to drop in,” said Ms. Tova. “Well, what do you think?”
“Astonishing!” The mayor of Cat Felicity said. “Ms. Tova, you outdid yourself. It’s even more magical than last year’s. Now, please go home, all of you. And get a good night’s rest.”
“Scoot on home kitties, echoed Ms. Tova, you heard the Mayor. Tomorrow’s the big day. Now scoot, scoot!” The kitties quickly tidied up and off they went scampering behind Ms. Tova.
Finally, alone, thought Mayor Wibs. He dropped his shoulders and approached the tree.
“Tree, we meet again. Such a marvelous tree you are, said Mayor Wibs. It'll be a shame if cats don’t come again to see you this year.”
Tears began to well up in his eyes as Mayor Wibs gazed at the ceiling, beyond the dome windows.
“My love, wherever you are, tomorrow may very well be the last, Christmas Waltz.”
