The Cat

Cat: a small domesticated carnivorous mammal; a wild animal of the cat family.

 

The cat, a tiny thing, ran up his arm, claws digging gently into his flesh, to alight upon his shoulder and lean in. “So where the fuck have you been?,” she purred.

The man grinned, too many teeth to count, unable to suppress the satisfaction he felt from the soft lick of breath in his ear. “And there was me thinking you wouldn’t remember me.”

“As if,” she murmured, claws opening and contracting rhythmically; not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to make a point. Or several.

“But I’ve explained where I’ve been,” he continued, reaching up to rub at her chin with the tip of his thumb. “Or at least tried to. And I’m sorry if you don’t understand that, it is complicated… I’m not sure I really understand it myself, sometimes.”

“Well, when I go out, I’m busy. I’m hunting. I’m killing. For you… but you, you just go, don’t come back. No food, no nothing.” She sighed. “No furry things, no flying things. Nothing warm. Nothing cold.” Her claws paused, as if in anticipation. “You bring nothing to the table.”

“I brought you to the table, you filthy little ingrate,” now chuckling softly as he moved to scratch behind her ear. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

“You better fucking have,” she purred again, pushing against his cheek, sharp teeth catching on his skin, saliva leaving a glistening trail. “But, be that as it may, I still want to know—where the fuck have you been?”

“Oh, hun,” he smiled, a sadness forming in his eyes, “I really wish I could explain it to you in terms you could understand… but I don’t think I can, suffice to say that this,” his gaze dropping, “is probably our last meeting—because life’s transient… and change… change is inevitable. Our experiences are simply a moment in time, they happen, then they’re gone. You remember things, of course, but you don’t really ever retain anything tangible. Just dreams, like this, that fade over time. And it breaks my heart.”

The cat cocked her head curiously, considering his words for a second. “So what’s for dinner?”

 

 

© JR Bryden, 2018. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from JR Bryden is strictly prohibited.

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