Creaking between trunks and hidden under shade of tree-top hoods. There trudges faithfully a horseless carriage that leaves behind no trail. Built of bone and leather and painted wood, plus brass and steel and strings and full of woodland goods. The sheltered wagon is by magic led along, neither pulled by steeds unseen or drone of machine, but by rider’s will is the caravan enthralled.

Atop the carriage, lit by dangling lantern bright, sits the cat conductor. Capped in a three-pronged crown, dressed in the envy of all moonlight: A ruffled and truffled nightgown, such sown of thin sheets of star shimmer. His cat eyes matched the glimmer, as did the whiskers surrounding his frown. Unprompted he’ll yell, “Heaps’ o ’swell, some clientele!” The old, salted feline will then ring a bell. This turns engines and gears and Fortune’s tables, take advantage if you are able! For when the bell rings, it converts the carriage into a curated storefront, filled with odds and ends and curious dreams.

Invariably so, behind the counter sits the cat in crown, that frowns in glowing gown and says, “Well then, what’ll it be?!”

Written by Eduardo Repsold

-----------

Hi! I'm Emmy – I'm an anthropomorphic artist & illustrator living in Chicago. I hope my tiny characters make your day a little bit brighter. :)