PREMIUM PREVIEW: Dorothy Joins A Book Club
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Hello everyone, this is Ria with a quick note. This is a preview of an episode exclusive to Little Stories Premium. Little Stories Premium gives you more of the stories you love, an ad-free listening experience, and access to Little Stories for Sleep, an exclusive bedtime podcast featuring brand new sleepy stories,

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This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. Books. What can I say? I love them. Always have. I love the feel of the pages. I always read physical books. There's just something special about holding a book in your paws. I mean, hands. Well, in this story, paws does fit. Because it's about a rabbit.

Let's hear it. It's called Dorothy Joins a Book Club. Take it away, Costa and Birdie Bay. Remember, there are no pictures. You have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go. ♪

Dorothy nearly missed this comment, which came from over her shoulder as she sat beneath the shade of her favorite tree, hunched over a large book splayed in her lap.

She had her paw on the page, and she moved it along beneath each word, concentrating with great intensity. But though she nearly missed the comment, she didn't entirely. Rabbits cannot afford to completely block out their surroundings, not with so many potential predators around.

Dorothy's ear twitched with the recognition that someone had addressed her, and she tore herself from the book in her lap. Oh, hello. There, behind her, was a rabbit she'd seen a time or two out and about. They'd had a few pleasant conversations, brief but friendly, and they'd been

Dorothy could not recall the rabbit's name. "I didn't know you were a reader," the rabbit repeated, her eyes bright. "Oh." Dorothy glanced at the book in her lap and felt a blush rise beneath her fur. "You're a reader?" she put to the rabbit. "I would read all day if I could."

"Me too," Dorothy thought to herself. "If I could." "This is just serendipitous, you know, because, well, I'm part of a book club. We were all filled up. Twelve is the most we can fit. But we had a member, Rosemary. She moved away. We have room for one rabbit." "Oh?" "It's unusual for us to have an open spot.

This is the first open spot we've had in a whole year. Really? We've been looking for somebody to join. A good fit, you know? A reader, you know? Dorothy realized that she must look like a reader, sitting there with an enormous book.

open to its midpoint, her wire-framed glasses slipping down her nose. So, what do you say? Dorothy silently pushed up her glasses, stalling. Like I said, we've been looking, and, you know, this spot will go quickly. Rosemary only left last week, after all, and so if you're interested, you should really... Yes, Dorothy heard herself say...

But even as the word escaped her, an itch sprouted on her neck. Her neck always itched when she was nervous. "Oh, the group will be so happy!" The rabbit gave her all the details. "Next Tuesday at Ivy's cottage, it's just past the hour..." Dorothy only half listened, enough to get the important stuff.

She nodded and smiled at what she hoped were the appropriate times, like a normal rabbit would. She waved goodbye like a rabbit who was not hiding anything at all. But Dorothy was hiding something. That rabbit had been so sure of what she was looking at.

A sweet, bespectacled bookworm engrossed in a wondrous story. I didn't know you were a reader. But that book, the big one, open in Dorothy's lap. She'd forced herself to open it. She'd flipped it open to any old page, favoring the middle, only because it allowed the book to balance evenly on her lap. Dorothy was not a reader.

At least, not yet. She wanted to be. It was just that she'd only learned how to read very recently, and every word was a mountain to climb. She had never finished a single book.

But isn't this a golden opportunity, she told herself as she watched the rabbit scamper into the spring forest, swallowed up by the glorious green foliage all around. This book club will help. I'll become a reader.

As soon as she arrived for her first meeting at Ivy's cottage the following Tuesday, she realized the chasm between where she was and where she needed to get to was much wider than she'd appreciated. Every bunny was friendly to her. "'Darthie, that's my sister's name, too.'

Oh, how nice. I've seen you at the market, haven't I? Don't you always get turnips? I do, that's true. We're so glad to have you, Dorothy. It was unfortunate to lose Rosemary. She always had the funniest interpretations of things. Funniest? Really? But they were all so...

bookish. Even Ivy's cottage was bookish. The modest home was teeming with books. Bookcases ran up and down every wall. Books were piled in stacks all over the place. If you didn't know it was simply a rabbit's home, you'd think it was a bookshop or a library. Dorothy thought of her own home, her little hut.

with her little table and her little feather bed and a single book. What have I gotten myself into? Dorothy coasted through the meeting by nodding and smiling and chuckling and appearing to understand what everyone was talking about.

even though she had absolutely no clue what they were talking about. All of them, except her, had rabbit-eared copies of that month's book and well-formed opinions about it. I didn't like any of the characters. The toad especially was just... Oh, he was awful, droning on and on for piss.

pages about his mosquito cakes. And the way he treated that young snail. I had to put the book down for two days after that. Dorothy spent most of the time sweating profusely, wondering if she could ever fit into this group. As the rabbits dispersed at sundown, the

The one who'd invited her, whose name, she learned, was Azalea, said, Dorothy, I'm so glad I ran into you when I did, because we had three rabbits inquire about joining in the last week. I'm so happy you got to snap up the spot. Oh, Dorothy said, scratching absently at the fur on her neck. Aye, aye, aye.

don't deserve the spot, she thought. "I am so happy," she said out loud. Dorothy was determined to be ready for next month's book club, and to give herself the best chance, she planned to use the entire month to read the selected book.

The day after her first meeting, she immediately set out to acquire it. Wimblebee's secret, you say?

The librarian at the tiny library by the pond peered at Dorothy from atop a stack of books, like she was a very fascinating creature indeed. Yes, I'm going to read it for my book club. Dorothy nearly laughed at how sophisticated she sounded. Are you? My dear, the elder mouse said with a sigh, no.

Wimblebee's Secret is the most sought-after book in my library at the moment. Oh, Dorothy had never heard of Wimblebee's Secret until joining the book club. Apparently, she was very out of touch.

Every rabbit, turtle, squirrel, and the occasional dormouse, although they're not known for reading, very lazy types, always napping.

Anyway, the book is in demand. We've not a copy, and the copies that are checked out, well, they each have at least ten holds on them. I see. Whatever confidence Dorothy had had entering the library vanished.

There is so much more to this story. You can hear the full episode by becoming a Little Stories Premium subscriber. Visit littlestoriespremium.com to join. And thank you, as always, for listening in.