December 31, 2016


"Meow," she crooned from the bathroom floor, but all the children were out, playing waiting games with midnight, drinking their fermented lolly waters and bitter ales. 

"Meow!" she tried again. But forget it. They're not listening, they don't care. They don't have your super-acute hearing or need for pats. You meowed, they left, that's that. They'll come stomping back in when they've had their fun and blame you for the cables you're tangled in. 

Think, cat, think. Be more adaptable! Be like us - careless children! 
But hey judgey pants, then the little kitty wouldn't be a cat. There would be no cats, only people, more and more and more people. She didn't want to be another people. They stood on tails and judged mouse head regurgitations. No thanks.

So she stayed on the floor awhile, in the last strip of 2016 sun, waiting for no-one, and whipping her lavish tail at nothing.


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