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       With eight minutes left on her lunch break from Hyperdial, Victoria Targenta slipped  into the downtown post office to quickly check her box. Zero value: brochures about management training seminars, a few catalogs for off-brands, and the usual mail that belonged to a different box. Bless her heart, the postmistress was less and less reliable each year. 
PICTURE GOES HERE
       Brushing past an exceptionally handsome bald man at the exit, Victoria grabbed the railing to avoid stumbling over a boy. He stood perfectly still on the stairwell, with one hand raised and his eyes squinting into the sun.  Victoria glanced at his hand. A fuzzy caterpillar, adorned in autumn golds and browns, crawled slowly across the boy's skin. 
       "What a fine fellow," she said, running a manicured fingernail across the caterpillar's backside. The fur tickled. The boy slightly tilted his hand, so the caterpillar's next wiggle would move him onto Victoria's extended finger. 
       "He likes you," the boy said. 
        Together, they watched the caterpillar crawl up her finger and then circle back to the boy's gentle palm. The boy squatted on the third stair, petting his friend. 
       Ignoring the afternoon passerbys, Victoria paused on the stairwell also and looked up at the  blue, blue sky.  Oh, joy, she thought, surprised at the phrase. 
       Victoria crossed the street, with a movement that resembled skipping and with the certainty that a generous God would save her from oncoming automobiles. She sought the cool grass. Just a small stretch fronting the Quick & Stop really, but proof that nature exists in a town filling quickly with too much concrete.
       Victoria kicked off her shoes, fell to the ground, and rolled. Back and forth, she rolled. She rolled on the grass until green stains covered her designer trousers.
      Oh joy indeed.

 
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Share Nature Stories with Victoria
Continue to Mail Box 19. 
Take me to the Insect Museum. 
Time to visit the Quick & Stop.