Imogene Leaves

The enormous spread of the place astonishes Imogene. The sheer expanse of the world, how it seems to go on forever, wood paneled horizons, glass reflections ebbing the distance, she cannot comprehend the ratio. Under two ounces in weight, her size dwarfed by all solid presence in the room which makes up her entire world.

Imogene slowly trots toward the denim divide, separating her from sure freedom. At once she is up, on top of the pile, conquering the cloth with each tiny hoof. Stumbling down the backside, half entrenched in a back pocket and then back out, she makes her way down the rough blue slope to the floor again.

Exhausted, Imogene rests her head on her front legs for a moment to regather her strength. She looks behind her at the jeans I left by the nightstand and finds herself a hero in the making. Having overcome such odds she knows little will be able to stop her in her quest, her sullied gaze finds solace in the wood floor again as she herds her legs into a standing position. Sure on her feet now, rested and in the right frame of mind for adventure, Imogene starts off with a sprint toward the door.

The tiny clacking of hooves barely heard by the slumbering giants. The door to the rest of the world lies looming ahead, approaching at unbearable speed and with an agility unmatched in her size category, Imogene reaches her destination.