by Cornell T. Johnson (Author)

Weasel counted his steps on his way to school; he could hear his heart racing and feel the lump in the back of his throat. Riding a rollercoaster of emotions, he was angry, sad, anxious, and glad all at the same time. Today would not be good at all. A smile dared not grace his face; this space was for frowns and frowns only. What do you do when you're having a miserable day and your melancholy as the moon eating ice cream without a spoon? What does Weasel have up his sleeve?