Reuben’s Trabel Journal – Entry #8

Location: Somewhere Above France
Date: Very High Up

Dear Journal,

Today we are in the sky. Actually in a basket. Hanging beneaff a hot air balloom. Me, Dougie and Teddy were in one, and the rest ob the gang were in two others.

This was Dougie’s idea, ob course. “Imagine the biews!” he said. “Fink ob the stories!” Teddy added, already adjusting his travel scarf and polishing his binoculars.

I nodded slowly. But inside, my whiskers were buzzing and my tail was in full curl. I’be neber been sure about fings that float because they’re full of hot air—except my cousin Scott, and that’s more ob a personality thing.

Still, I couldn’t be the only one who stayed behind. So I climbed in. Teddy held my paw. Dougie pointed toward the horizon and shouted, “Adbenture awaits!”

And then… we launched.

At first, it was berry qwiet. Peaceful. The ground below looked like a patchwork quilt made of toast crusts and green grapes. But then the breeze caught us, and we swayed just a little—and I might have squeaked louder than I meant to.

Teddy whispered, “You’re doing great, Rueb,” and I beliebed him.

I peeked down again. There was the village, the bakery with the jam that always dribbles, the cheese museum, even the crooked alley where we saw the accordion cat.

And then my paws relaxed. My tail unfurled.
I wasn’t scared anymore. I was floating—wiff my best friends, above the land ob cheese and croissants.

I still wouldn’t call it relaxing. But magical?
Oui.

—Reuben xoxo

P.S. Dougie dropped a grape. It hit a farmer. He waved. We waved back. It’s fine.