#MastoPrompt April 1, 2025: #border
#MrWhiskers
The rain pelted the window as Mr. Whiskers napped in his self-heating bed. Autumn had gone off to pester Mother and the atmosphere fitted Mr. Whiskers' mood. The spring air drifted through the cracked window, heavy with petrichor. Mr. Whiskers inhaled deeply and peeked an eye open. Crocuses along the border of the fence were being beaten down by the heavy rain and the clouds darkened everything to a gloomy pallor. For him, a perfect day.