03/06/2025
“Stripes at the Station”
After a long trek across fields, highways, and one particularly confusing roundabout, Zane the zebra was beat. His hooves ached, his mane was wind-tossed, and the last patch of grass he’d eaten tasted suspiciously like Febreze.
As he trotted past the grand entrance of Harmony at Victory Station, something called to him—maybe it was the gentle breeze, maybe the faint scent of meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the divine presence of a place that whispered, “You look tired, sweet stripes. Come rest.”
The automatic doors whooshed open like a magical portal, and Zane wandered inside. The nursing staff didn’t blink. This wasn’t the strangest visitor they’d had—not after the Elvis impersonator with vertigo. With kind smiles, they offered him a warm compress for his weary legs, a peppermint hoof rub, and a quiet room to recharge.
Later, in the dining hall, Zane nibbled happily on a plate of steamed vegetables and took a liking to the strawberry Jell-O. Residents gathered to pet him gently, and he nuzzled back, a living therapy session wrapped in monochrome.
By sundown, Zane was rejuvenated. He gave the staff a grateful snort, posed for a photo under the entrance sign, and trotted off into the golden horizon.
Some say he’s still out there, wandering the world. But those at Harmony know—every traveler, even a zebra, finds their way home when the care is just that good
