It’s a great way to have less stressful life 🙂
This post is part of One-liner Wednesday:
(meme is from my Pinterest)
Sniffling, Maryellen poured herself a drink at the small bar in her apartment, then took a sip of it. She flinched at the bitter taste of it, but nodded with satisfaction and took it over to the couch, where she quickly finished off the drink before throwing herself into the pillows and crying her eyes out with bitter sorrow over the fiasco of running into her boyfriend, Jimmy, apparently with another woman, and the argument that followed. Her cell phone chimed, and she looked at it to find a text message from Jimmy, apologizing for the misunderstanding and hoping she wasn’t too bitter about it. There was also an attached image, which she opened to see was a picture of him holding out a ring box. She barely had time to register what she was seeing when there was a knock at her door.
This post is part of the Tuesday Use It In A Sentence prompt, “bitter”:
Lately, I’ve taken to writing little stories or the occasional poem for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, but this time the prompt is to use a book title – either one that you’re reading or one nearby – and write the post based on the book title and what it brings to mind.
Now, I have a couple of books I’m currently reading, but their titles don’t work too well with this prompt, but one I have nearby to read next seemed to be promising, so I’m gonna see what I can do with it. That book is by the humorist, The Oatmeal, and is called How to Tell if Your Cat is Plotting to Kill You.
Now, as a cat lover and former cat owner (my Shadow has been gone almost a year), I’ve heard people talk about cats being evil and plotting to kill you, and I don’t really believe it to be true (as some people tend to do) and instead consider myself part of the larger cat-loving community who joke about it instead.
That being said, my mind has also tried to go through some memories to see if there might have been any indications of Shadow’s plotting or failed attempts to kill me. Some possibilities include:
*The many times he would climb up in my lap, reach up, put his paws on my shoulders, and lick my earlobes while purring and kneading my shoulders. I thought it was just an endearing habit, an indication of his contentment and happiness with me, and seeing me as his “mommy”. But maybe the kneading (with claws extended) and licking were something more, like he was trying to “soften” me up and get a taste?
*Jumping up on my dresser and shelves in the middle of the night, knocking stuff over. I thought it was just to get my attention, to get me up so I’d put him outside. Maybe he was trying put stuff on the floor for me to trip over in the dark, instead?
*Getting chummy with his poodle fur-sister, Cinnamon (see my main blog photo, above). On the surface, it appeared they had learned to get along like family. But maybe Shadow was actually recruiting her to his cause, because they both would be constantly underfoot (and especially Cinnamon), making it hard to walk without tripping over them, and in the kitchen in particular.
*Then there’s this photo, where he seems to be saying, “Fire up this grill, or else.”
*And too, he was a black cat, a “ninja” cat, as many in the cat community refer to them, and he was constantly practicing his hiding skills outside:
Hmm.. I don’t know. Maybe there is some truth to it, after all?
This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “book title”:
Sloshing his glass of whiskey around, Rupert railed against what he considered all the injustices in society, then got up and staggered out onto the balcony, where he leaned far over the rail to yell at some noisy kids on the street two stories below; he would have fallen if his friend Dennis hadn’t followed after him in concern and managed to catch him.
This post is part of the Tuesday Use It In A Sentence prompt, “rail”:
Nick and Rick approached the skate ramp with their skateboards tucked up under their arms.
“You sure about this, Nick?” Rick asked.
“Of course, dude. I’ve been practicing for weeks. Just watch me. I’ll nail that move this time.”
Rick watched as Nick mounted his skateboard and started doing some tricks on the ramp. He started with some simple flips, including some kickflips and kickback flips, then started to ride his board up and down the sides of the ramp, building up speed for some aerial tricks.
Rick watched, impressed, as Nick pulled off a couple of air tricks. Nick noticed and managed to flash him a grin and thumbs-up on his way by, as if to say “See, what’d I tell you?”
But just as he was coming down the side of the ramp after his next trick, he somehow landed wrong and went tumbling down the side of the ramp, his skateboard slowly rolling to a stop near him.
Rick ran to his side. He didn’t think the fall had looked that bad, and they were both wearing some padding. “Aw, did ickle Nicky take a fall?” Rick said jokingly as he knelt beside his friend.
“Shut up, dude, and help me up, will you?” Nick said from where he lay facedown at the bottom of the ramp.
Rick turned Nick over and was about to grab his arm to help him up when he noticed his leg. “Aw, dude! Your leg! Ick! I think I’m gonna be sick!”
“What are you talking about, dude?” Nick asked, then looked at his leg. His shin bone had broken clean through the skin. “Aw, dude! I think I’m gonna be sick, too.” The pain of the break finally registered and he grimaced. “Ugh! Hurry and go call an ambulance, man!”
This post is part of the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, “ick”:
Never get lost in the Sauce
An exploration of writing and reading
The opinions expressed are those of the author. You go get your own opinions.
Music, Musings, Memoir, and Madness
Welcome to the world of cats!
Traveling to Murder & Mystery sites.
Proverbs 12:10 "A righteous man cares for the needs of his animals"
I'm a kat dealing with living with the lower life forms.
The muses we really need - advice, Q&A, and more!
"Writers Helping Writers" with Marcia Meara & Friends