Chilled March

Pip! A tiny row of six wind-up plastic penguins was standing on a shaded white shelf, right in the chilly path of the overhead air vent! I scurried over and tucked myself straight into line, right behind the last glossy blue penguin. Suddenly, a shopper clicked the silver key of the leader. Click-clack, click-clack! The whole row began to waddle forward in steady, chattering unison. Pip! I matched their snappy little cadence immediately, lifting my stick legs high and shuffling right alongside their smooth, icy plastic backs. When their gears finally wound down, we all settled together in a quiet, tidy cluster in the shadow.