Harriet Returns

Harriet was in a slump. She twitched her nose disconsolatly and heaved a sigh. Then she stopped. Resituated herself. Half-closed her eyes. And gave a gentle exhalation. She squinted open one eye and looked at herself in the mirror. (She liked being in front of mirrors.)

"Bother!" She sat up straight and made a nasty face at herself in the looking glass. In her mind she had completely recreated herself as a languishing heroine and the truth, which stared back at her in the mirror, was anything but enjoyable. "It's no good. It simply can't be managed..."

And with that she walked slowly to the window ledge. She had been playing in the attic one day, (the attic had all the good mirror, old jewelry and poofy feathers required to play dress up) and on that one day she had seen something that had changed her life. (Or rather, she liked to think that it changed her life, Harriet was always getting little thrills that "changed her life" but in reality rarely did.) She had been standing by the window (pretending to be a damsel in distress) when all of a sudden a bright red bird flew by. He was very attractive. Sharp dresser (Harriet liked that) and he had a very business-like way of approaching everything. He strode cockily across the branches and arched and dipped whenever he flew. He was showing off. Harriet liked to imagine that he was trying to impress her. And gradually she grew to believe herself... He came back, day after day, and he seemed to get more cocky and sure of himself. (Harriet just thought he was cuter.) She started to primp and practice flirtatious eyelash flickers in the mirror. Yesterday she had done a very nice job and was looking incredibly nice (or so she told herself).

Then she had seen her.

There, perched in the bows of the tree, just below the window was a little bird. She was tiny and brown. No flashy red. No flirtatious eye-batting. She just sat there. Quietly. And watched.

She was the reason he had kept coming back. (I am afraid that at this point Harriet stamped her foot in vexation.) Harriet tried to find some fault with the girl bird. (Yes, it must be admitted at this point that Harriet is not always very nice.) She was hyper-critical and pretended not to care.

But in reality Harriet did care. She cared very very much. But the more Harriet watched the more she saw how nice the little brown bird was. She was even beginning to think that the little brown bird was nicer than the flashy guy bird.

And so, although Harriet cared very, very much, and although Harriet wanted to cry more than anything else in the world.

She didn't.

Because Harriet was a very brave mouse. A brave mouse who wasn't going to let one (okay two... maybe three- that she'll admit to) disappointments ruin her life. She was brave.

So she decided to see the world...

to be continued...