Where Dreams Blossom: The Wind of Past Times. Alex Chekhanovski

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Название Where Dreams Blossom: The Wind of Past Times
Автор произведения Alex Chekhanovski
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isbn 9785006550582



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      Where Dreams Blossom: The Wind of Past Times

      Alex Chekhanovski

      Cover designer stabledifffusion.com

      © Alex Chekhanovski, 2025

      © stabledifffusion.com, cover design, 2025

      ISBN 978-5-0065-5058-2

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      Dear Reader,

      If you remember the well-worn pages of your own childhood storybooks, the gentle illustrations that sparked your imagination, and the feeling of being transported to another world with every turn of the page, then you know the kind of magic I’ve tried to capture in this collection.

      «Where Dreams Blossom: The Wind of Past Times’ is an invitation to rediscover those long-forgotten treasures – the simple joys of friendship, the courage to chase your dreams, and the enduring comfort of home. These are stories spun from the same threads as the classic tales we all grew up with, tales that speak to the heart and nourish the soul.

      My hope is that, as you read these stories aloud to the children in your life, you’ll not only share a moment of connection, but also pass on a legacy of wonder – a reminder that even in our modern world, the power of a good story can still transport us to a place where anything is possible, and where the values of kindness, compassion, and belonging never fade.

      Four Legs, Two Worlds

      Chapter 1: Wishful Thinking and Whisker Dreams

      Ethan slumped at the kitchen table, his small shoulders drooping like a wilted flower. The scrambled eggs on his plate looked like a pale, lumpy sun, but Ethan didn’t feel sunny at all. Outside, through the window, autumn leaves were putting on a spectacular show. Bright reds, fiery oranges, and sunshine yellows swirled in the breeze like dancing fairies, twirling and twisting before floating gently to the ground. But Ethan didn’t notice. His gaze was fixed, as if glued, on Rusty, a scrappy mutt with fur the color of dried mud and mismatched socks. Rusty was trotting jauntily past the window, his tail wagging with such enthusiastic joy it looked like it might fly right off! Rusty, Ethan thought, had the best life ever.

      «Ethan,» Mom chirped, her voice as bright as the autumn leaves outside, «eat your breakfast, honey. You’ll be late for school!» She smoothed his unruly brown hair, but Ethan just sighed, pushing the eggs around his plate with his fork.

      «School’s so boring, Mom,» he mumbled, his voice muffled by the weight of his unhappiness. «Numbers and letters… it’s all just squiggles!» He made little air quotes with his fingers when he said «squiggles.» They looked much more fun than his homework.

      Mom chuckled, a warm, comforting sound. «They’re not squiggles, sweetie. They’re the key to a whole world of adventures! Learning is an adventure!» She winked, but Ethan highly doubted that.

      Adventures, in Ethan’s opinion, involved digging in the dirt until your fingernails turned black, chasing squirrels through rustling piles of leaves, and barking (very loudly!) at passing cars. Adventures smelled like damp earth and tasted like forbidden cookies. Rusty seemed to understand all this. He certainly wasn’t doing homework out there.

      As Ethan trudged to school, his backpack feeling heavier than it should, he kept a hopeful eye out for Rusty. Finally, there he was! Rusty was weaving through the neighborhood, nose to the ground, tail wagging with that signature happy bounce, a picture of carefree joy. Ethan imagined Rusty’s day: a delicious sniff of the bakery’s bread, a playful chase with a friendly butterfly, a long, satisfying nap in a sunbeam. «Oh, to be a dog!» Ethan wished with all his might, his voice barely a whisper. «Just for one day…

      That night, tucked into his cozy bed, surrounded by his army of well-loved stuffed animals – a grumpy-looking teddy bear, a one-eared bunny, and a brave knight dragon – Ethan’s thoughts swirled with images of Rusty. What was it like to sleep under a blanket of stars, the cool night air tickling your nose? To sniff out hidden treasures with every twitch of your wet, black nose? To be loved unconditionally, just for being you?

      He closed his eyes, picturing Rusty’s freedom. He imagined soft fur, floppy ears, and a world seen from down low, where smells were bigger and the wind whispered secrets only dogs could understand.

      He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of chasing rabbits through sun-dappled meadows, the wind whipping through his imaginary fur, the taste of freedom on his tongue… a very dog-like dream. But the rabbits weren’t the kind you’d find in a field. In one dream he chased the scent of a juicy bone on the wind, weaving through streets littered with broken glass. In another, he bravely defended his territory from a giant, mean… cat? Except it wasn’t scary, it was just clumsy and wore a ridiculous hat, scattering yarn and string everywhere it went. And in a third dream, Ethan chasing his own tail in wild circles until the world was just a blur. Sometimes, Ethan worried he actually caught his tail, the universe would implode.

      The next morning, Ethan woke up with a start. Sunlight streamed through his window, painting stripes across his familiar room. He stretched, yawned… and a strange, unfamiliar bark rumbled in his throat, vibrating deep in his chest. He blinked, confused. Something felt… different. He looked down.

      Where there had once been small hands, now there were furry paws. Where there had once been smooth skin, now there was coarse, brown fur. And wagging behind him, with an unstoppable, joyful rhythm, was a… tail!

      Ethan was Rusty. He was a dog! The wish had come true, and the adventure, he suspected, was only just beginning. He tried to shout «Mom!», but only a loud, excited bark came out. He scrambled out of bed, his paws slipping on the smooth wooden floor. This was going to be… interesting.

      He padded to the door, nose twitching, and sniffed. Bacon! He loved bacon. Maybe being a dog wouldn’t be so bad after all… as long as there was bacon.

      Chapter 2: Four Paws and Freedom

      Ethan-as-Rusty exploded out of the back door and into the crisp autumn air. Freedom! Real, honest-to-goodness, dog freedom! The world smelled a thousand times more exciting than it ever had before. Every blade of grass, every crunchy leaf, every passing squirrel held a fascinating story, whispered on the wind and captured by his twitching nose.

      He bounded across the yard, reveling in the feel of the cool earth beneath his paws. He hadn’t realized how soft the grass actually was! It was like running on a giant, green, fluffy rug. The morning sun warmed his fur, and a gentle breeze ruffled his ears. He was a dog, and the world was his to explore!

      First things first: squirrels. Those bushy-tailed bandits had been taunting him from the trees for years. Now, he was finally fast enough, agile enough, to give them a real run for their money. He took off, barking with delight, chasing a particularly cheeky squirrel up the oak tree in the corner of the yard. The squirrel, of course, was far too clever. It chattered mockingly from a high branch, flicking its tail as Ethan-as-Rusty huffed and puffed below.

      «Just you wait!» Ethan barked, but the squirrel just laughed and scampered away.

      Next on the agenda: cats. There was a particularly grumpy calico cat, Mrs. Higgins, who ruled the neighborhood with an iron paw. She always hissed at Ethan when he was human, and now… now he had a chance to even the score! He spotted her slinking along the fence, her tail twitching with annoyance. He crouched low to the ground, wiggled his butt, and then… POUNCE!

      Mrs. Higgins yowled in surprise and leaped onto the top of the fence, her fur bristling. Ethan-as-Rusty barked triumphantly, wagging his tail. He had won! (For now.)

      The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of sniffing, digging, and exploring. He discovered a whole new world hidden beneath the bushes, a secret kingdom of ants and beetles. He overturned a garbage can (sorry, Mr. Henderson!), scattering its contents across the lawn (the smells were amazing!). He chased after the spray from the sprinkler,