In the early hours of the evening I rose from the discomfort of my broke down bed and stumbled into the living room for a cup of stale coffee. As I reached the coffee maker I saw a little gray figure under my kitchen chair sitting warm and comfy as if he belonged here. It looked up at me. I froze. Across his little mousy face I saw the sneer of, “I don’t run.” Really I thought? Well, wait here. I’m going to get the cat. I’ll be back.
The Stand Off: I realized if I moved he’d run and Bella wouldn’t be able to torture the creature to death so I began whispering for her to come to me. The little mouse sat perfectly still, it never moved which furthered my resolve that his life must end in a horrific show of pain and despair. I kept calling Bella but Bella is an untrusting cat who surely heard an ulterior motive in my tone. I wasn’t calling her for loving or a saucer of milk nor was I calling her simply because she’s my good girl. Nope, there was “something” about my voice which wasn’t to be trusted. Realizing Bella wasn’t an option I reached for the closest thing to me which was my reading shawl. Some people have a smoking coat or scarf but I have a shawl wrapped around my shoulders as I sit in the lazy boy re-reading paragraphs in Chapter One of a book I started six weeks ago.
RECENT COMMENTS