Goose Leash
By the light of small kerosene lamp, she carefully hand-hemmed a small triangle of brown and grey tweed and glanced down at him from her rocker. "You won't stray again, Henry. I'm making sure of that."
The white goose opened his bill and hissed disdain. His black eyes darted around the room as if he was trying to locate an exit.
"No reason you can't still be nicely dressed, though," she said with a positive but stern tone. She smiled. "And calm down, darling. You don't have hands. There's no way you're getting a door open. Best to relax." She giggled, the lamplight sparkling in her glasses, "Silly goose."
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I love the comfy, textured picture of this vignette. Everything from the tweed to the lamplight "sparkling in her glasses", it gave quite the picture of the moment. I especially how you got inside the head of both characters, even though the goose (at least based on what you have here, I'm assuming) is a normal (non-talking/magical) goose. Lovely work!
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