Felice's Metamorphosis

It’s been 6 days so far, and no one has noticed me in the library. I have to say it’s a relief; there’s so much more studying to do before I’m ready.

During the day I wander aimlessly through the VHS section. Nobody really goes through the aisles, so I can usually stay out of sight. Every so often someone wanders through looking for the bathroom, in which case I throw my voice from a different aisle to direct them down the hall, to the left. Always down the hall, to the left. Other than that, I’ve been undisturbed. Which is perfect; I have so much to learn! At 4 o’clock, I sneak into the children’s section for story time so I can listen to Fidel read a story.

Fidel is the librarian here, and while he may not be the most thorough at closing up, he has my heart. I’ve been in love with him for 6 days, 3 hours, and 17 minutes so far. I don’t think he’ll ever find me beautiful, but hopefully, he’ll find me smart. I’m just a simple sheep, raised on a farm my entire life! Actually, the library is the farthest from home I’ve ever been. But Fidel is so worldly, so charming, so… well-read. I just have to make a stellar first impression.

6 days ago, I was an entirely different sheep. I’d rather eat pages than read them. Truthfully, I’d rather eat most things, I’m sort of the foodie of my herd, you know. I’ll try anything once. Most of the time I only get grass, sometimes hay. My palette is so sensitive I’ve been able to identify the farm from a hay bale harvested 50 miles away! But I don’t think that would impress Fidel. He’s probably eaten hay from all over the world. sigh. He’s so dreamy. Those beautiful brown eyes light up whenever he’s asked about Kafka. I don’t know who Kafka is, but he sounds great. It’s hard to concentrate when I’d rather sit here, imagining Fidel scratching behind my ears as he reads me Kafka.

Sorry! Back to the point. How’d I get here? Well, 6 days ago I was out with the herd and grazing on a delicious line of clovers. They were growing all along the fence. I was enamored with their flavor- there was a slight tang that I couldn’t place, which is so unusual for me. I kept grazing and grazing until I looked up and saw I’d grazed right out of the pasture and halfway down the road!

But the clovers kept going, and I couldn’t stop myself. I just had to know what that flavor was. I figured if the gate was left open then it was probably for a good reason, you know? Gary doesn’t leave the gate open unless it’s a special occasion, and it was my birthday! At least, it felt like it.

The clover patches started to thin but I still couldn’t place that peculiar tang. I’d wandered into what I now know is the town square, awfully thirsty. I followed my nose to the corner flower shop, and feeling bold- I walked right up to the counter. The florist had her back to me, so I nuzzled her free hand- her name is Anne and she’s absolutely delightful by the way! She laughed and asked me what I was doing in her flower shop, to which I replied, “Water?”

Truthfully I think we were both shocked that I’d said it out loud. She said, “Well, this is a new one!” She brought me a drink and we talked for hours. She told me about a chemical spill last week from up the road, and how all the rabbits woke up one morning and were chattering up a storm! Apparently, they have quite a few thoughts on the current political climate. I guess some of the runoff flowed down the gutters after yesterday’s rainstorm- I knew that flavor was strange!

Anne showed me around town and we ended up in the library. Turns out, not only can I talk, but I can read! Anne wanted to show me where the philosophy books were, but I was drawn to this lively voice telling a story. That’s when I saw him. My heart stopped the second, the very second I first laid eyes on him. He was reading a story called Corduroy to a group of children. Anne offered to introduce us, but I was so overwhelmed I ran off. I got turned around and ended up in the VHS section before he ever saw me. Anne finally found me in the VHS section, munching on an old copy of Homeward Bound. VHS tapes don’t taste very good, honestly. I lied and told Anne I’d be fine for the afternoon. She planned to come to check on me later, but she must have lost track of time because the library closed before she came back. It’s actually pretty cozy here at night, so I decided to stay.

Anne has been sneaking me dandelions all week, and we have a little picnic in the VHS aisle during her lunch breaks. I can’t really study here during the day, so at night I get free range over books. I haven’t gotten to the Kafka section, but I have read through some pretty exciting stuff! Did you know they have entire books about food? I’ve read the entire vegetarian cookbook section already. They have the most beautiful pictures, but they taste terrible! I bet I could write a book and the recipes would taste so much better than these do. There isn’t a single recipe that uses hay, can you believe it? Tonight I’m focused on figuring out who Kafka is. I don’t think he’s a food.

Tomorrow I’m determined to introduce myself to Fidel and I want to look my absolute best.

……Anyway Joanne can you call me back when you get this? I’d love a ride back to the farm so Gary can give me a shearing in the morning. Oh, it’s Felice by the— *end of recording*