All Of Her Hearts

Perle is watching the fauna of the back yard and listening to its sounds on a mild evening. When she sits in this position --often on this same sill --the orange spot on her butt morphs into the shape of a heart. She's looking through bars that speak of a sadder incarnation of this neighborhood, around twenty years back when street crime and home invasions were regular occurances. I remember when these bars were installed after a burglary. People were sometimes slaughtered in their tracks within a minute's walk of the doorstep.

But Perle was born long after this house mellowed into a far more peaceful home, and so it suffices for her to keep an eye on all those rascally squirrels.