nothing_it_appears_to_be aM i DiStUrBeD? After riding home on the bus, a loner in its creaking belly, I alighted to find that the crisp spring sky was relieving itself by the means of a fine rain. This, however, was pleasing as it hadn't shown any blue in over a week. The breeze was refreshing and a welcome change to a stuffy classroom where I had spent the past three hours; although today it promised me it would be gentle, and lift my skirt no higher than above my knees. My mood and the weather were both pleasing as a scent of freshly mown grass brushed past me, brought by the wind. As the sun peaked out, the moisture fell in what seemed like soft pearls; today seemed perfect. Walking past the gardens (and the houses that belonged to them) I gazed at the mown down dandelions and blades of grass that were in heaps, and I remembered how wonderful it was to make nests for birds out of it when I was small. But as I glanced over to each garden stretched out beside me, I noticed a small brown pile. Walking quickly by, it was merely glanced at, I knew what it was. A Hedgehog. I could even see where the skin had been peeled away by the mower blades. The white tipped brown spines, the pink skin, and the red blood. Revolted, I stopped. My hand was over my mouth and an appearance of horror across my face. I had to look back, I had to; even if it was just to clarify this sickening memory. I turned to look back. Searching the grass where the disaster had occurred. I found it. It was, well, better than I had imagined it to be. It was indeed a hedgehog, but of the very common stuffed variety. Oh how I laughed! My hand still over my mouth to cover both my shame and my giggles. And so I walked on, glad that today wasn’t all it appeared. 050401 what's it to you? who go blather from