by Michael Seese
To assuage the bruised feeling of her cat -- Her Grace, the Duchess of Yowl -- who realized She'd not had a flash fiction contest in Her honor, Janet asked us to do the honors.
We were to craft a story of 100 words, using:
Caterwaul was suggested as an optional word. I tried to come up with some variation of sneer, like I can tell... 's neer, which sounded like words being slurred, and came up with the idea of a cat returning after a night on the town. I give you “Hair Of The Cat.”
Whiskers weighed down by the morning dew, I struggled to leo-locate my backyard. I could have sworn I left it here somewhere. Perhaps I did have a little too much catnip.
Her caterwaul guided me home.
“Hi, person,” I slur-purred, my temporary affection met with foot-tapping insouciance.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
Yow! Lay off the decibels, lady. And don't get your fur in a bunch.
I made preparations to wipe that smug sneer from her face vis-à-vis a “gift" in her intimates drawer, until a tactical scratch to my ears wilted my will.
Did I mention the catnip?
Though I probably shouldn't admit this, in hindsight I wish I had said "situational affection" instead of "temporary affection."
As always, I welcome your thoughts. Or cat on the town stories.