Into A Cat’s Mind

Bob the tailess wonder sat hunched on the concrete railing, overlooking the thick bushes. The pattern of his fur coat shifted as he struggled to find just the right position. Bob was cold, a little hungry, and lonely. The sky darkened. A human male on roller blades whizzed by him, nearly careening into the lamp post a few feet away.

He remembered when he was important. Just a kitten, he had thought his world was his kingdom. He was presented with a multitude of fingers and hands and rubber toys to chew on. There was warm milk. There were hugs and warm laps. And when he yowled, the humans always jumped to attention.

And then there was the accident. It didn’t bear thinking about. So Bob didn’t. Instead, he delibrately filled his thoughts with butterflies and voluptuous queens. But they were only pipe dreams–in actuality there were only ratty gray moths and the crotchety neighbors who fought over olive-stuffed squirrels.

“Hey Bob!”

Jerked from his reverie, he looked back seeing a bunch of humans in jeans and baseball caps burst through a pair of glass doors. They were grinning, leering.

Bob leaped into the bushes and sprinted into the welcoming shadows, his heart pounding.

Other things:
Grayed. Shameless self-promotion. Go see a novel in progress.
The Museum of Unnatural Mystery. And I say the Loch Ness Monster is behind all the UFO sightings.
The Anagram Genius Archive (Music). You don’t suppose they’re also sending subliminal messages too, do you?