Joy's September: Fun Run

The continuing story of a character named April

Prompt 1:
September 1
The Sudden Silence

On the morning April turned forty, the world stopped.

Not dramatically. There were no explosions, no sirens, no sudden darkness swallowing the sky.

It simply… paused.

April noticed it first when she opened her bedroom curtains. The birds were frozen in midair.

One hung above the maple tree, wings spread as though someone had pressed a pause button in the middle of its song. Across the street, a delivery truck sat motionless at the intersection, its driver staring ahead. Even the rain that had been falling all night seemed suspended, tiny silver beads hanging against the morning light.

April touched the window. Nothing moved.

She looked at the clock. 7:14. The second hand wasn't moving. She waited.

Seven-fifteen never came.

For the first time in years, April felt something she couldn't remember feeling before.

Peace.

Complete, startling peace.

No phone ringing. No demands. No obligations. No memories chasing her from one room to another. Just silence.

Then, from somewhere deep inside the stillness, came a sound. Three slow knocks.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

April turned toward her apartment door. She crossed her arms. She didn't know what to do.

The world had stopped for her. But was it giving her a moment to breathe? Or was it waiting for something to arrive?

She took a hasty step toward the door, then another one, and then another...

Sept. 2

The Forgotten Promise

April opened the door and stepped out. Now she was standing in the middle of the silent street, her breath the only thing moving in a world that had forgotten how to move.

She looked at the sparrow hung above the telephone wires, wings outstretched as though painted onto the sky. Raindrops remained suspended like tiny glass beads. What was this? She was forty years old, and for reasons she could not understand, time had stopped for everyone and everything except her.

She turned back and went inside her apartment, thinking she might find a clue to all this weird nonsense that was around her. She opened a drawer inside the walnut cabinet that was once her grandmother's. In it she was keeping old things, things with memories, things she had promised herself that she'd keep since those could remind her of where and what she had been.

April reached into the drawer and stopped when her hand found a small wooden box she had not seen in decades. Inside lay a silver pocket watch that did not tick.

Folded beneath it was a note in her own childish handwriting.

"Dear Time, it read, I promise that when I grow up, I will not hurry past the important things. I will stop to notice the seasons, keep the people I love close, and remember that every moment is alive."

The memory returned all at once.

She had been eight years old, sitting beneath a great oak tree, when an old stranger with kind eyes had spoken to her.

“Time is not your enemy,” the stranger had said. “Treat it kindly, and one day it may return the favor.”

Yet, life had become busy. There had been deadlines, losses, worries, and endless rushing. She had forgotten birthdays, postponed visits, and set aside dreams for “someday.”

Could that be why time had paused, waiting for her, now?

Time had not stopped because something terrible was coming.

Time had stopped because it was waiting for her.

Waiting for her to keep her promise.

April held the silent watch in her hands. Suddenly, she understood what must be done. Suddenly, she had understood the secret.

She promised again. "I will live the life I kept delaying."

The moment she finished her words, the pocket watch gave a single, gentle tick.

She looked at the window. Outside, the birds were completing their flights. The raindrops were falling.

Perhaps, somewhere, unseen, TIME had smiled and was moving forward once more.
-----
September 3

The Visitor


April took a deep breath and then a big bite from her cake. She was celebrating Time's giving her another chance. Yet, she wondered if this was a celebration or a verdict.

Who knew! Who really knew anything in this upside down, mixed-up world!

What was she going to do? From which end was she going to fix her life like she had promised Time? She looked around her cluttered apartment, and realized she had spent the last decade accumulating bitterness like dust on a windowsill.

That night, standing by her open window, she made a silent covenant with the dark. How was she going to make herself act better? She thought maybe all had to start with the heart. Didn't everything need a heart to succeed? So she decided she would soften her heart, let go of old grudges, and learn how to truly inhabit her own life. Then, for possibly the first time in her life, she knelt down and prayed.

The response to her prayer came three days later, not with a flash of lightning or anything fancy like it, but with a knock on her door.

Standing on her welcome mat was an elderly man in a faded navy cardigan. He carried a battered leather satchel and smelled faintly of cardamom and old paper.

"April," he said, his voice as warm as tea. "I am Tariq. I’ve come because you made a promise."

April blinked, holding the door tight. "A promise to who?"

"To Time," Tariq replied gently. "And to yourself. When a heart asks so sincerely to change, the universe takes notice. I am your guide. I’ve been assigned to assist you."

April showed him in, wondering from where Time had found this man? Who was this man, really? How could he help her!

Tariq, as if he read her thought smiled. "I'm an old man, not of this world. When I lived in this forsaken planet, I had become a Sufi, Surely, that was only a step but it led to me being assigned as a guide to those who need a guide.

April scoffed, her instinctual skepticism flaring. "My guide? A Sufi? I don't even practice Sufism. I'm just an woman who works in an office, who's tired of being miserable."

"It does not matter what name you give the river, April, so long as you are willing to swim," Tariq said with a quiet smile.

He then stepped toward the door. "I won't always be standing before you like this. In fact, most of the time, you won't see me at all. But when help arrives, when a subtle shift happens just when you need it, you will know it is me."

Before April could ask for a rational explanation, Tariq opened the door, stepped out into the hallway, and turned the corner of the stairwell,

The next minute, he had vanished into the thin air.

In the weeks that followed, April thought about this strange encounter. She didn't know what to make of it. She didn't until the small miracles began.

Her transformation wasn't magical, really. It was deeply, sometimes uncomfortably, practical.

When her short-tempered boss began yelling during a Monday morning meeting, April felt her usual fiery defense rising in her throat. But just before she could snap back, a cool breeze swept through the air-conditioned room, carrying the distinct, fleeting scent of cardamom.

Her pulse slowed. A sudden, uncharacteristic wave of empathy washed over her, allowing her to see the panic behind her boss's anger. She responded with calm grace, leaving the entire room astonished, including herself.

Later that month, stranded on a rainy highway with a flat tire, she felt the panic rise. Suddenly, a passerby pulled over. That passerby happened to be a woman who happened to be a mechanic heading home from work. As the woman changed the tire, April noticed a faded blue thread woven into the mechanic’s keychain, identical to the frayed hem of Tariq's sweater. A quiet certainty settled in her chest: He is here.

Tariq never micromanaged her life. Instead, his presence was an invisible hand nudging her toward her best self.

Other incidents happened and in most of them, April felt Tariq's hand. When she felt a sudden urge to forgive an old friend, the unexpected patience she found for a difficult neighbor, and the quiet stillness that replaced her late-night anxieties, she knew it was Tariq guiding her.

She thought, maybe, trying to become a better person wasn't a solitary burden. She was walking a path mapped by a unseen guide, learning that grace often arrived unannounced. She knew that Tariq's help was disguised as a moment of stillness precisely when she need it the most.

But then, what about her? What about April? Was Tariq doing all the work? What if he disappeared for good? Could April handle the burden of keeping her promise on her own?
--------
September 4
On Caring

She'd never know that, would she! But her resolve was there, anyhow. She'd keep her promise, with or without Tariq's help.

After all, it was her promise and Tariq was the element to speed it up. This thought gave April some courage. What would she do with this courage, she didn't know, but certainly she would try.

April was thinking these thoughts, one day, until after she stepped off the elevator and left the building and the office of Aurora Data in which she worked as a data analyst.

Outside, she took a long breath of fresh air and wondered how she could stand to work in a closed space as her office. Instead of going to the parking lot for her car, she began walking. She thought she'd just walk around the block and then come back to get her car.

After she had walked a few steps, she noticed in an empty lot the children, four young boys all, with sticks in their hands. They were hitting something small and black that was cowering at the side of a building.

April stopped. She took a careful look at the black thing. The black thing moved and looked at her, "Meow" it said in a very sad tone.

April screamed and the boys froze holding their sticks in the air. "Aren't you ashamed of yourselves to go after a tiny cat?" she yelled.

Some boys took a few steps back, but the tallest of them said, "None of your business, lady!"

"It is my business. You are hurting an animal."

'Hey Lady, don't you see, that cat is working for the devil.'

"What! Who says? That's crazy!"

"It is a black cat and black cats work for the devil."

April rolled her eyes. "You have black hair. Are you working for the devil, too?"

"It's not the same," the boy muttered.

April reached for her cellphone and held it in her hand. "The police are on their way. I think they'll decide on the guilt of anyone with black hair, be it cat or boy."

As soon as she finisher her words, the sound of a police siren tore through the air. All the kids ran away, some throwing their sticks at the empty lot as they ran.

April smiled. She hadn't called the police at all. She only had the time to barely understand what was happening. She walked toward the cat. The cat was still shivering with fear.

"Hello, kitty!" she talked gently to the cat before touching it. The cat opened its eyes and looked at her. April gently lifted the cat and held it close to her chest. The cat gave a few faint meows. It was still shivering with fear.

"Let's see what we can do with you," April whispered. Then, holding the cat she turned back and walked toward the parking lot of Aurora Data where her car was waiting for her and the cat.
--------
September 5
The Doctor/Veterinarian

The cat meowed a bit when April put her on the passenger's seat. Was the cat hurt with maybe broken bones due to the whacks from those kids' sticks? She had to take him to a vet immediately.

She searched for the nearest vet around on her cellphone. One of them was only couple of streets away. What if the cat had to be put down?

She looked at the cat and shivered. Why was she investing so much emotion in an animal that would probably be a burden in the long run, that is if it lived? She looked at the cat again. She hadn't even checked if it was male or female. The cat was looking at April, with its green eyes wide open. She petted the cat gently and felt for its backsides. It was a female cat. "Hello, young lady," April said. The cat gave a short meow. "You like being called a lady, don't you! So, maybe you're Lady, after all!"

What was she doing naming the cat, as if she could keep her? But Lady did fit the cat's regal black color and her emerald green eyes. April smiled at the cat as she shook her head in disbelief. Disbelief that she was talking to a cat and hoping the cat could live.

April turned on the ignition as she stroke the cat to calm it when the car came to life and moved.

The veterinary office smelled faintly of disinfectant, rubbing alcohol, and something warm and animal-like. A large aquarium bubbled quietly against one wall, while framed photographs of dogs and cats covered another. Somewhere behind a closed door, a dog barked once, followed by the jingling of metal instruments.

April sat on the edge of a plastic chair, holding Lady on her lap. Now the cat pressed herself against April and was watching everything.

The door opened, and a possibly middle-aged handsome veterinarian stepped into the room. He wore a white coat over blue scrubs and had a pair of reading glasses perched low on his nose.

"Hello, I'm Daniel Nash. And you?"

" April Ruditz. Nice to meet you Dr. Nash."

"Oh, just call me Dan. I hate the long name. My nurse left already for the day, but let me see what I can do for you. "

Then he looked at the cat. “Well,” he said with a gentle smile, “who do we have here?”

“I'm not sure,” April replied. “I found her about an hour or so ago. She's a stray.”

The veterinarian stared at the cat and petted her gently. “Do you know how long she’s been on her own?”

“No. But she looks like she hasn't been eating very well.”

"She'll need a carrier," he said. "I think I might have one I could give you." Then,, he looked at the cat. "She certainly looks frightened."

April took a deep breath. "I found her in an empty lot a couple of streets away. Some kids with sticks were trying to beat her up."

"Oh oh! Poor kitty! Let's go to the inside examining room. I think you should bring her in there. She seems to trust you."

"I hope she trusts me," April sighed. "I now call her Lady. As soon as I brought her to my car, that name popped up in my head."

The veterinarian looked at April for a moment before answering.

“I think animals know more than we give them credit for.”

Inside the examining room, the veterinarian moved slowly. He gently placed one hand along her back while examining her coat. He parted the fur in several places, checking the skin beneath it.

“She's underweight,” he said. “And she's got quite a few fleas. Nothing we can't deal with.”

April watched anxiously.

"Is she hurt? Does she have broken bones?"

"Let's not assume the worst. I'll Xray him to be sure." He reached to vial inside a box and dropped a few drops of liquid on Lady's tongue.
The cat immediately pulled her head away.

“Well, she has opinions.”

Lady meowed and edged toward April.

"This should calm her." Dan Nash, the veterinarian, said as he took a couple of straps from a nearby closet.

Although the Xray took only seconds, putting the straps on the cat became a chore.

When the examination was over, the veterinarian leaned against the counter. “No broken bones and she has a good chance. She's thin, but I don't see anything immediately alarming. What she really needs is food, rest, warmth, and someone willing to give her a little time." He looked at April. "Are you up for it?”

April nodded.

"I scanned her for a microchip but she doesn't have any. That means no previous owner. So you're it. "

April smiled. "Okay, but what happens to her while I'm at work?"

"She learns to wait for you during the day. That's all."

What had she just gotten herself into! Then, she looked at Lady who was probably medicated enough to fall asleep, but Lady opened one eye and meowed at April.

Dan Nash looked at April with a serious expression. "So, are you keeping her? Or do you need a few days to decide?"

April sighed. "I think I already made my decision. I'm keeping her. She's my Lady."

Dan Nash smiled. "I had a feeling you might."
-------
September 6
The Key

"Lady? A nice name, indeed!" Dan Nash said. "But still, what if someone might be looking for her, even if she doesn't have a microchip?"

April nodded, though something inside her tightened.

Dan Nash noticed. "You don't want to give her up."

April looked at Lady. "No!" The answer came so quickly that they both smiled.

"I thought so," Dan Nash said, then he returned his attention to the cat. "She's lucky!"

"Why?" April looked at him.

"Because she found you."

His words caught her unexpectedly. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, Lady chose that moment to reach out one paw and tap Daniel's wrist.

He laughed. "Well, apparently I'm forgiven."

"Don't get too comfortable," April said. "She might have moods."

"So do I."

April raised an eyebrow. "Is that something veterinarians usually admit to their clients?"

"Only the ones they like," Dan Nash said.

April laughed again, and Dan Nash seemed pleased that he had made her laugh. There was something warm and slightly shy about his expression, and April found herself wondering when she had last felt that kind of ease with a man.

He added, "Wait a bit, so I can get you the carrier and a few other emergency supplies you might need today."

"Thank you," April said. "I so appreciate your taking care of Lady, even after hours. I had no idea you were closing up."

"I'd never close up on my beautiful clients especially when they care so much about strays," Dan Nash said, as he pulled out a carrier from the storage and some cat food, together with a bag of cat litter. "Let's insert your lovely Lady in the carrier and I'll help you carry all those to your car."

Were all veterinarians this attentive? Or...what? The thought and its implication shook her as she reached into her handbag for her checkbook."

Clang! Her key chain fell of from her bag and she knelt down to reach for it under the examination table. But the chain had skidded to the other end. At that same moment, lady started meowing loudly.

Dan Nash had just finished placing Lady into the carrier. When he heard the sound of the key chain dropping down, he said, "Leave it! Here hold the carrier. Lady needs you at the moment. She doesn't seem to like the carrier much."

Then, he reached for her keys. When he handed it to her their fingers touched. They both smiled.

April was surprised. She certainly hadn't barged in to this veterinarians' office thinking about romance. She had come because of a cat she had just found.

Then, Daniel said, "No, don't pay me now. My nurse and attendant aren't here, anyway. Bring Lady back in two weeks. Then, we'll see what we can do.

April nodded, "Of course, I'll bring her. And thank you so very much."

He held the door open for her, but paused before she walked out. "If you have any trouble with her, please call at any hour."

"I will. Thank you."

"Any trouble at all, even the smallest thing."

April smiled, "Even if she decides to redecorate my place?"

"Especially then. "

Her car was right outside the building. He put her bags on the back seat, and secured the carrier on the passenger seat. "I'd normally ask my patients to keep the carriers on the back seat, but this Lady here seems to feel you near her more at this time."

"Thank you, Dr. Nash"

"Dan, please."

She hesitated, but said, "April."

He smiled and repeated her name. "April!" The way he said April made her look at him again. Although she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was simply the kindness in his voice.

As she waved at him while pulling away, Dan Nash was still standing at the curb. When he saw her wave, he lifted his hand, too.

"You know," April whispered, "you've already caused me enough trouble."

The cat opened her green eyes and pushed her nose through the mesh on the covering of the carrier.

April laughed.

"I found you while you were getting beaten, and now I'm apparently making friends with your veterinarian."

Lady meowed again and whimpered.

April shook her head. "Don't look so innocent."

She didn't know it yet, but Lady had done more than find a home. She had quietly opened a door in April's life that had been closed for a very long time.

Suddenly, April heard Tariq's voice, "Never live behind closed doors."

So it was Tariq again. Or was it?

For somewhere in front of that closed door was a man named Dan Nash, who was beginning to wonder when his new patient named Lady and the woman who had rescued her would be coming back.

Two weeks suddenly seemed like a very long time.

September 7
The Whispered Name

"Tariq!" April whispered as she let Lady out of her carrier, into her apartment. Lady meowed. April laughed, "So you also think it was him."

Lady began investigating her new surroundings. She moved with the cautious confidence of an animal who had already decided that, somehow, this place belonged to her. She sniffed the legs of the dining table, inspected the corners of the living room, and then slipped beneath the sofa. A moment later, she emerged as though she had discovered something of great importance.

“Well, Lady,” April said softly, “I suppose you're going to have to approve of the place before I can call it home.”

Lady looked up at her and meowed. April smiled.

Then, for a moment, April felt an odd sensation, though not quite fear and not quite wonder.

It was the same feeling she had experienced those several since Tariq had entered her life. The unmistakable sense that there was something happening just beyond the edge of what she could understand.

She glanced at the clock.

For a moment, the hands didn't move.

Again?

April's smile faded.

She had seen enough strange things now to know that this was no ordinary coincidence. Time had stopped. Not merely for her, but for everything around her. The world outside her windows seemed frozen in place, suspended in an impossible stillness.

And then there was Tariq. Could it have been him, again?

April looked toward the ceiling, as though she might somehow see through it.

“Was this you, Tariq?”

There was no answer.

Lady suddenly darted across the room and jumped onto the windowsill. She stared outside for several seconds, her tail slowly twitching.

April watched her.

“Do you know something I don't?” she asked.

Lady turned her head. Her eyes seemed unusually bright in the strange, motionless light. April felt a chill pass through her.

Perhaps Tariq had not simply appeared in her life by accident. Perhaps the things that had happened—the impossible coincidences, the mysterious help, the moments when it seemed as though the universe itself had shifted slightly in her favor—had all been leading somewhere.

But why would Tariq stop Time?And why now?

April walked over to the window and stood beside Lady. She stroked Lady's back. Outside, the world was no more perfectly still.

The cars now moved along the street, and the branches stirred. Only the clouds stood painted against the sky.

Lady pressed one paw against the glass. April reached down and gently stroked her back. “I think we're going to have to figure this out together,” she whispered.

Lady purred.

September 8
The Inherited Journal

"Look for your grandmother's journal!" April opened her eyes suddenly in the middle of the night. "Its last page..." Now, who had said that!

Lady meowed sleepily from the side of her bed. Silly cat, she wouldn't sleep in her own bed!

April noticed a silhouette in the dark of the night in her bedroom. Before she could even scream, the silhouette leaned toward her bedside and turned on the lamplight next to April's bed.

"Tariq!" April whispered.

Tariq had showed up again in person. Why? Or was Apri dreaming?

"No, you didn't dream it, " Tariq said. "As I said, find your grandmother's journal. You have it still. In this place. Read the last page and don't fight destiny. Time doesn't excuse slackers and fighters against it. I'll leave now. I just wanted to make sure you got the message."

Then, without any other word, he disappeared suddenly into the thin air. Lady meowed, staring at April.

"You must be involved in this, too, Lady, in some way, " April said, pulling the cat to herself and hugging her.

Yet, she didn't recall coming across any journal by anyone in the old house. She had only taken a few books and old jewelry. But a journal? No way, anyhow she should check those books she had stored at the back of the walk-in closet.

Yes, she'd do it but she had to wait til Saturday. In the meantime, she toyed with the idea of taking some kind of a thank-you gift to the veterinarian Dan Nash for the kindness he had shown to her and to Lady. Would that look like she was being too Forward? After all, she was sort of indebted to him. But no, that wasn't it. April was no spring chicken and she knew herself quite well. April had really, really liked Dan Nash.

So on Saturday, she walked into the closet with Lady tagging behind her. She had piled behind a stack of blankets whatever she had brought from the old house. She pushed the blankets aside and reached into the sizable pile. Behind the stacks of heavy books her fingers brushed against something lighter. A paperback maybe? She pulled it forward.

It was a small, cloth-covered notebook, faded blue with a worn elastic band around it. There was no title on the cover. Only a faint stain in one corner and several scratches that suggested it had been carried around for years.

She sat down on the closet floor and opened it. Lady curled beside her and watched her turn the pages.

The first page contained a recipe written in a looping, old-fashioned handwriting.

Chicken and Dumplings.

April smiled. She knew that handwriting. She had seen it on birthday cards, Christmas notes, and the little slips of paper her grandmother used to leave beside a plate of cookies.

"Grandma."

She said the word aloud, although there was no one in the apartment to hear her.

April carefully turned the page.

There were only a handful of recipes. They were recipes like chicken and dumplings, apple cake, potato soup, and something called Sunday Roast that included instructions like add flour until it feels right.

April laughed. "That's helpful."

She continued turning the pages, expecting to find more recipes.

Instead, she stopped.

The handwriting was still her grandmother's, but there was no recipe.

At the top of the page was a date.

Below it, her grandmother had written: Today I made the apple cake, and I thought about my mother. She used to make it every autumn, although hers was always better than mine. Funny how food can carry people through time.

April's smile faded into something softer.

She turned the page. Another entry. Then another.

The notebook wasn't merely a recipe book. It was a journal. Her grandmother had apparently hidden a lifetime inside it.

Was this what Tariq had meant?

In the notebook, were memories of her grandmother's childhood, stories about her husband, descriptions of family dinners, worries about money, little complaints about neighbors, and observations about growing older.

April sat cross-legged on the closet floor, completely forgetting about where she was. She read about the day her grandmother had first met her grandfather.

He was wearing a terrible brown suit and trying very hard to look serious. I knew immediately that he wasn't as serious as he wanted everyone to think.

April chuckled.

She remembered Grandpa only vaguely. He had died when she was young, but she remembered his booming laugh and the way he always slipped her an extra cookie when Grandma wasn't looking.

Several pages later, April found an entry about him.

Sometimes a woman doesn't realize how much a man has become part of her life until he isn't there anymore. Then you notice all the little things—the empty chair, the quiet side of the bed, the missing voice from the kitchen.

April stopped reading for a moment. She looked at Lady sleeping beside her. Then, she looked toward the doorway of her apartment. The rooms suddenly seemed very quiet.

She turned another page. Her grandmother wrote about raising children. About arguments. About forgiveness. About Christmases that didn't go according to plan. About getting older and discovering that some things she once thought were terribly important weren't important at all.

Then, near the bottom of one page, April saw a sentence underlined twice.

She read it again and again. Then, she stared at the words. "The most important things in a woman's life are a good man and a cat."

Then she recalled. Her grandmother had a fascination with cats. There always seemed to be one somewhere in the house. A gray one on the porch. A black one sleeping beneath the kitchen table. A fat orange cat that seemed to believe it owned the living room.

April turned the page. There was more.

Her grandmother had written: People may disagree with me about this. That's all right. A woman needs someone who will sit beside her when the world gets difficult, and she needs a cat who doesn't care whether she's having a bad day. The man should be kind. The cat should be that, just a cat. If you get both, you're lucky. When you find both, don't let them escape!

April laughed, imagining her grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, writing those words with a cup of coffee beside her.

She turned her gaze back to the journal. Love isn't always fireworks. Sometimes it is someone asking if you've eaten. Sometimes it is a hand on your back when you're tired. Sometimes it is a cat climbing onto your lap when you are trying to read.

April took a deep breath as she read the last lines. Don't wait so long for life to become perfect that you forget to live the life you already have.

April closed the notebook. For several minutes, she simply held it in her lap. Then, she reached for the box that contained old family photos, and now she knew there was something else she wanted to look for.

Pictures of her grandmother.

Pictures of Grandpa.

And, if she was lucky, pictures of the cats.

Because perhaps her grandmother had been right. Perhaps the recipe for a good life was not complicated after all.Maybe it was simply love, companionship, a little black cat furry enough to be so lovable to climb into your lap when you needed it most.

She reached for Lady and let her sit on her lap for a while.

Sometime during the next week, she'd go see the veterinarian and maybe take Lady along, although the two weeks Dan Nash had suggested that she bring Lady for an examination was not up, yet.

As far as April could now see and appreciate, Time was trying to teach her a lesson. A lesson in impermanence. It had always moved whether April was ready for it or not. April, on the other hand, instead of doing what was the most important for her, she had concentrated on her education, her job performance and things that would leave her alone and meaningless at the end.

Maybe this thing with Dan Nash would work or maybe not. Still, April decided to keep her heart and her options open. This was partly because of Lady. Just through her short presence so far, Lady had thought April loving other living things, truly loving, and possibly projecting this love to human beings was the way to go. That was what time had shown to April through its weird behavior.

"Thank yoo, Time and Tariq!" April murmured. "For teaching me!"

As if in approval, Lady lifted her head up and meowed.