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April 1, 2022

A wolf in my kitchen

What is this strange feeling that has come over me this morning? I’m afraid a wolf has entered my head. A wolf hungry for wild stories. A wolf whose endless howls echo off the walls of my cranium.

And how am I going to tell the real world – my dear readers, all those who commended me on my writing yesterday? What is happening to me? Did the angels lose my address, carried away by strong winds? Will the imperturbable sky fall on my head if the wolf devours my paragraphs? What would become of me without stories to tell, readers to entertain and words to feed me? What does this yellow-eyed beast, fresh from some nightmare, want with me? Should I tremble in fear?

Still wearing my nightclothes, I spin around the kitchen table several times as if I were going to run the Boston marathon. The wolf’s mysterious gaze pierces me at every turn. Suddenly, I shiver. I’m terrified that everything is going to disappear – my imagination, my hopes and the crazy goal I’ve just set my mind on.

It is perhaps precisely this new madness that has awakened the animal! The heart of this old woman is finally looking for its soulmate. I freeze in front of the animal, which suddenly stretches its big head towards me. A strange howl interspersed with inaudible words flows from its mouth, as if it were trying to speak. A howl soft and precious, like he was offering it to me with his paw. Trying not to stare at him, I notice that the yellow of his irises has turned a deep green, as if signalling the animal has suddenly turned gentle.

My throat, as dry as a desert, struggles to react. Is this beast as mean as I imagined? Does he too, like the lady crow, have something to say to me? For a long time, the wolf remains motionless and silent; his eyes transfix me. Perhaps he saw my prayers escape my lips and float heavenward? Perhaps an invisible angel was even stroking his nose? What was he doing in my kitchen if it wasn’t to make a meal of me?

My insides are getting impatient. I am in urgent need of caffeine. Daring to move, I fill the water tank, turn on the machine and take the cream out of the fridge. Dare I offer him something to drink or eat? What do wolves eat for breakfast anyway? Even after so many years spent in the kitchen, it turns out I still have much to learn about my trade!

Suddenly the animal opens its mouth.
- “So, old grandmother, you’re looking for love,” the mysterious animal proclaims.
Boldly, I explain, “I want to live the fullest life possible before I leave this world. I am looking for a big, warm hand to hold mine, a kind heart, tender words and eyes as attractive as yours in this magical moment.”
- “Don't worry, grandma, I will help you in your quest. This is my mission on earth: I help the elderly live happier and longer lives.”

And suddenly, as if to seal his promise, a flash of sunshine lights up the kitchen.
- “Sweet wolf, would you like to have breakfast with me, enjoy some hot coffee and a slice of crispy toast?”
- “No, thank you, dear new friend. My kindhearted companion is waiting for me at the edge of the woods. We’re having a picnic by the river.” And with that the animal leapt out of the house as quickly as it had entered.

The older I get, the more I tend to exaggerate my fears; to turn them into wicked wolves capable of slaughtering me. Some days these imaginary beasts invade my present and threaten my peace of mind. Ever since I declared my bold desire to find a soulmate, it seems that fear assails me in all its forms. Fear of being too old, fear of being ridiculous, fear of not pleasing the one I meet and fear that no one will be interested in me. By staying with this fear, perhaps I will get to know it better the more I experience it? Maybe I’ll discover that it’s just a faint ghost, a fleeting shadow pushing me out of my comfort zone. As I’ve aged, I’ve perhaps forgotten all about my courage, boldness and tenacity; all the qualities that once made me a leader. Now that I have a good wolf around, I won’t be afraid anymore.

I’m happy to have met this visitor in my kitchen. I will continue to write until my life is worth its weight in gold.

🐺
Cora

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