2025-03-27
20 分钟Hello friends and welcome to Sleep Tight Stories.
Fuzzy usually enjoys Fridays because he gets to spend the morning painting with Mrs. Carpult.
But for some reason, he cannot think of anything to paint.
Fuzzy tries his regular things, but nothing works.
What if he can never paint again?
Fuzzy can't paint part two.
The Stratford Academy for Cats and Dogs.
Fuzzy felt grey inside.
Not literally.
He was still his usual orange with white paws and a tail that fluffed up at inconvenient times.
But today, everything felt off.
The rest of Friday crawled by.
In culture class,
Fuzzy accidentally called a spoon a scoopy fork and got a lecture about proper silverware etiquette.
At lunch,
someone knocked over the gravy-trained stew and the smell clung to his fur like bad memories.
By the time Fuzzy boarded the bus home, his backpack felt like it was stuffed with bricks.
He took his usual seat by the window, had phones on,
but even his favorite song about dancing raccoons couldn't cheer him up.
The countryside rolled past fields, trees, sunbathing cows, but Fuzzy barely saw them.