The bright yellow wood poppies were looking as happy as usual, but a cold breeze shuddered through the garden, and the sky glowered, as it had for days now. Blowing on his paws and stamping his feet to stay warm, Old Possum pulled the ancient phonograph out of the closet in his drafty front hall and carried it into the living room, setting it carefully on a side table within reach of the comfy chair he had pushed closer to the fireplace.

The dreary weather called for Beethoven, of course; or perhaps Bach. Possum couldn’t decide, so he grabbed several delicate old records out of the box in the closet, figuring he would play them all, one after the other, while he drank his tea and reveled in the haunting strains of cellos and pianos and violins, all of which paired perfectly with the gray day.

(April 2023)

Story © Jennifer Singleton / Read+Purr

This is another vignette in my ongoing series of Tiny Garden Stories: peaceful 1-minute tales, full of cozy vibes, delicious details, and generous dollops of imagination & whimsy. Click one of the first two buttons below to go to (or back to, if that’s where you fell down the rabbit hole) either the Public Garden archive page or (if you’re a Story Club member) to the Private Garden page. Or click the third button to learn more about my Tiny Garden Stories. Want each week’s featured story delivered directly to your inbox? Subscribe to my Substack.