Under the light of the full moon, Mr. Smiley slept in his comfy chair, perched in the back yard midway between the dormant puffberry plant and the compost heap. Mr. Smiley figured that this location maximized his chances to observe the play of the Moonbugs. If he stayed awake, that is.
All was quiet, except for the sound of Mr. Smiley's breathing, the sound of the wind whishing in the trees, the creaking of many oddly-shaped-and-brightly-colored birdhouses, and a faint buzzing. The buzzing grew louder, louder and still louder.
Mr. Smiley yawned, turned slightly and continued to sleep soundly.
A moonbug appeared, buzzed several times around Mr. Smiley's head, and landed gingerly on his nose. Another moonbug buzzed past once, twice, hovered for a moment and landed next to the first moonbug.
"Hi", said the new arrival. "I'm Henry".
"Hey there, big boy", said the first moonbug, fluttering her antennae. "I'm Melba. Wanna fool around?"
"I do", said Henry, proudly displaying his red stripes. "But I hear it's deadly".
"It is deadly", said Melba, preening her polka-dotted carapace. "But you can't help yourself. It's instinct".
"It's true", said Henry. "We Moonbugs are passionate creatures, but our brief loves end in the compost heap".
And with that, Henry and Melba danced a slow sarabande in and around Mr. Smiley's nostrils until, in a fit of fiery lust, they consummated their love and departed for the compost heap (by way of the dormant puffberry plant, where they deposited the next generation).
Meanwhile, in Beauneville, Natasha's parents were away for the week on a trip to somewhere. She painted in the studio for awhile, ordered tiffin from the Red Trolley Diner -- a vegetable curry, with dal and rice -- and painted some more.
Feeling restless, Natasha stepped outside and walked up Dogwood Street to the corner of Fourteenth where, by pure coincidence she ran into Roderick, who was headed home from Molly's house.
"Hey, Roderick", said Natasha.
"Hey", said Roderick.
"Whatcha doing?"
"Nothing", said Roderick. "Heading home".
"Want to come over?"
"Sure".
They went to Natasha's house, to the living room. Natasha curled up on her right side on the big plush sofa, her long black hair draped over her left hip; Roderick relaxed on the rug with his back against the sofa. Natasha's hand rested on the sofa a few inches from Roderick's dark brown hair.
They chatted about....things.
