She was majestic. I’ve loved her since the time I first saw her curly red hair in the window. She usually combs her hair at night and whistling a song I couldn’t recognize, but which touches my heart like the mothers palm. Indeed, this could be a romantic story, except I’m just a ferret, and there is no magic in this world. So, only glancing at her is left for me.

The other day the man started vis...