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, reveling in the cool, refreshing shower. He rolled in the dirt, burying his nose in the earthy scent.
This was the life! This was what freedom truly felt like!
Meanwhile, Inside…
Rusty-as-Ethan stretched luxuriously in the warm bed. He sniffed the air. Mmm… delicious smells were wafting from the kitchen. A human word popped into his head: «Breakfast!» And suddenly, he felt an overwhelming urge to get to the kitchen.
He leaped out of bed and raced downstairs, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor. He burst into the kitchen, tail… well, imaginary tail wagging furiously.
«Good morning, sleepyhead!» Mom said, smiling. «I made your favorite: oatmeal with blueberries.»
Ethan, or rather Rusty-as-Ethan, wrinkled his nose. Oatmeal? Yuck! He normally hated that gooey stuff. But today… it smelled… amazing. He sat down at the table, grabbed a spoon, and shoveled the oatmeal into his mouth. It was warm, sweet, and surprisingly delicious!
Mom stared at him in amazement. «Ethan! You’re eating your oatmeal! And you like it!» She clapped her hands with delight. «I’m so proud of you! Maybe now you’ll behave better.»
Rusty-as-Ethan just grinned and shoveled another spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth. This human world was full of surprises!
After breakfast, Mom pulled out a brush. «Time to tame that wild hair of yours,» she said, chuckling.
Rusty-as-Ethan sat still as she brushed his hair, enjoying the gentle pressure on his scalp. He usually squirmed and complained when Mom brushed his hair, but today it felt… nice.
As she brushed, Mom noticed something odd. Rusty-as-Ethan kept sniffing the air and twitching his nose. And he kept looking longingly out the window.
«Are you feeling okay, sweetie?» Mom asked, concerned. «You’re acting a little… dog-like today.»
Rusty-as-Ethan just wagged his (still imaginary) tail and licked his lips. He couldn’t explain to her that he was actually a dog. But he could enjoy this strange, new, human world. He was going to do the best he could, even if it meant going to… school!
Chapter 3: Rusty Goes to School
With a newly brushed head of hair and a stomach full of oatmeal, Rusty bounced all the way to school. He practically skipped down the sidewalk, his sneakers squeaking with every step. He couldn’t wait to see what this «school» thing was all about. Was it like a giant dog park, filled with exciting smells and friendly faces?
He burst through the school doors, a wide grin plastered across his face. The hallway was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds: children chattering, lockers slamming, and the faint aroma of floor wax and… were those peanut butter sandwiches he smelled?
A little girl with bright pink pigtails stared at him. «Wow, Ethan, you’re really happy today!» she exclaimed.
«Woof!» Rusty barked, then quickly clamped his mouth shut. He meant to say «Hello!», but he’d forgotten he was supposed to talk like a human now. He gave her a big, goofy grin instead.
The little girl giggled. «You’re funny, Ethan!»
Rusty followed the stream of children down the hallway, his nose twitching, trying to identify the source of the peanut butter smell. He found it! A little boy with a Spider-Man lunchbox was unwrapping his sandwich. His name was Billy. Rusty’s eyes widened. He’d never seen anything so appealing in his life.
Completely overwhelmed by the delicious smell, Rusty lost all sense of personal space. He went straight to Billy and began sniffing furiously at the lunchbox, practically burying his nose in it.
Billy, startled by the sudden, intense sniffing, yelped and jerked back, nearly dropping his sandwich. «Hey! What are you doing, Ethan? Get out of my face!» he exclaimed, clutching his lunchbox defensively. He looked around, bewildered.
The teacher, Mrs. Gable, a kind-faced woman with a warm smile, rushed over. «Ethan, what’s going on?» she asked, her voice gentle but firm.
Rusty, feeling ashamed, tucked his tail between his legs… or rather, tried to. He forgot he didn’t have a tail anymore. He looked up at Mrs. Gable with wide, apologetic eyes, his nose still twitching from the irresistible aroma of peanut butter.
«Ethan,» Mrs. Gable said softly, kneeling down to his level, «we don’t sniff people’s lunchboxes like that, okay? That’s too close, and it’s making Billy uncomfortable.»
Rusty nodded, feeling his ears droop. He knew that. He just… he just couldn’t help himself. The peanut butter smelled so good!
«Maybe you should step back and give Billy some space,» Mrs. Gable suggested. «And then we can start our reading lesson.»
Rusty shuffled off to the bathroom, feeling like the worst student in the entire school. Being a human was harder than he thought. There were so many rules!
As he washed his hands, he gazed out the window at the playground. He saw Ethan, his real self, running wild and free in the yard, chasing a ball and barking with glee. A pang of longing hit him. He missed the freedom, the smells, the simple joys of being a dog.
He sighed. He had a feeling this «school» thing was going to be a lot more complicated than he anticipated. Maybe he should have stayed home and chased squirrels instead.
While Rusty struggled to navigate the human world of school, Ethan was having the time of his life in Rusty’s body. He spent the morning exploring every corner of the neighborhood, sniffing out new smells, marking his territory (much to the dismay of the neighbor’s prize-winning rose bushes), and generally causing a delightful amount of canine chaos. He even managed to snag a discarded hot dog from a nearby park, a culinary masterpiece that tasted a million times better than anything Mom ever made. But as the day wore on, a gnawing feeling started to creep in… loneliness. There was no one to share his adventures with, no one to scratch him behind the ears, no one to… tell him he was a good boy.
He missed Mom. He missed his warm bed. He even missed… gasp… school.