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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Pasameerday on October 30, 2013

The Curious Cat

I’d ignored the sounds of fizzle-bang-pop from the empty house across the road. I’d ignored the multicoloured glow that poked and prodded its way through the gaps in the cloud cover at night. I’d even ignored all the doors that I kept on seeing in places that a minute before I’d have sworn were wall. But I couldn’t ignore this.

I picked up the cat. It was furry, as most cats are, and smelt of drainpipe and plasticine - a strange, acidic mixture of smells that made me hold him just a little bit further away from my face. He wriggled.

“Would you awfully mind putting me down?”

He wriggled again, a little more forcefully this time, so I plopped him on the ground at my feet. Twisting, he licked away my fingermarks in his greasy fur.

“Thank you. I would ask why you picked me up in the first place, but, to be quite honest, I don’t care.” I opened my mouth, wanting to say something but not quite able to spit out any words. The cat looked at me questioningly - if it was possible for a cat to do so - and yawned.

“Are you trying to say something, or just catch flies?”

I choked out a wheeze.

I’d known this place was weird, odd. I’d known that there was something off about it - none of the locals would talk to me, and if I even mentioned that there was anything wrong, the silence - but for heavy breathing - would quickly shut me up. But there was a talking cat at my feet, staring me in the face, and… That was the moment.

“What is wrong with this place? Wha-What is wrong with it? The sounds, the lights, the… the cats! The… For God’s sake! Why is this all so weird, why-w…” I dropped to my knees, slamming my forehead onto the pebbled street at the paws of the cat.

“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong with this place?” The cat placed a paw on my head.

“Fascinating…” he murmured, running his claws gently through my hair. I whimpered, glad for the comfort.

After taking a few deep breaths, I stood up again, brushed myself down and shook out my hair, watching the black and grey dust float down onto the road. The cat started licking himself, but still keeping an eye on me.

“Thanks, I… I kinda needed that.” I was talking to a cat. Said cat could reply to me. God… This place was affecting me. In all honesty, in that moment I felt that I myself was just as ‘off’ as this godforsaken town.

“So… Will you tell me?”

“Will I tell you what? No need for specifics or anything, I can read minds too!” he snorted, as if it was any less likely than his existence.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong with this place?” He twisted to give his slimy coat one final lick, and turned to me with the most smug look that you could ever see on the face of a cat.

“Well, that would be giving it away now, wouldn’t it?”

And he strutted away down the cobbled street, tail waving a final goodbye, and went through a door in a place that a minute before I’d have sworn was wall.

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