‘Ellie, nooo …’ She crouched to sweep up the shards of glass and soak the red wine splattered across her floor like a crime scene.
She narrowed her eyes at the watching cat. ‘You never used to push things off counters.’
The queen prrted hopefully, and boffed the human’s hand when she was done. Tension melted from the human.
The queen eyed the wine bottle. She had seen another human slip something into that bottle, and nobody would hurt HER human on her watch.
Another microfiction. Image by WenPhotos / Wendy Corniquet, used under Pixabay License.… Read more
The queen peered through the hedge, her muscles bunched tightly.
Her fur had lost its gloss and her tail, once a regal pennant, was now thin and rat-like.
She knew in her heart that she was a queen, but she looked like a beggar now. Felt like a beggar. And much as she had tried, she wouldn’t make it on her own.
She watched the woman with the others of her kind, saw the gentleness. The woman, she had been told, who could restore her crown.
The queen gathered her courage. ‘Excuse me!’ She rushed through the grass. ‘Pardon me, but –‘
She hesitated at the woman’s feet, unsure of the welcome she would receive.… Read more
The cat chattered, clacking her teeth, fur rising.
His gut clenched.
‘Elsie, come away,’ Fear made his song-song tone brittle. He half-crouched toward the window.
Elsie smacked the glass with a velvet paw.
‘Come here, sweetie.’
She chirped once, then hopped down from the windowsill.
He cradled her against his chest. Her purrs were so loud, he could almost ignore the moans of the shuffling horde outside.
It wasn’t easy to have a housecat in the zombie apocalypse.
Image by StockSnap, used under Pixabay License.… Read more
Another microfiction for Mastodon, with thanks to my Ko-Fi supporters.
She brought him the usual gifts at first. A mouse, a bird. A ribbon for him to play with.
She would run up with her gift in her mouth and prrt cheerfully around it. And he would pat her head and tell her she was a good and clever cat.
Then it was a coin with strange markings. A pendant, warm to the touch. A piece of lightning-struck wood.
He never knew of the shadowy figures that followed him, but neither did he have to fear them.
She was a good and clever cat.… Read more
Yesterday on Mastodon, I played a game where people could tell me their favourite colour, and in exchange I would write a toot-sized (or tweet-sized) encounter with a magical creature. The creature was not necessarily related to the colour.
Here are the results. I hope you enjoy them!
You are woken in the night by a sound like a child crying. As your eyes adjust, you realise: not a child but an animal.
You follow the sound to your desk. A kitten mewls there, eyes closed, ears tiny, as small and wet as if it was just born.… Read more
A microfiction written for Mastodon.
She walked down the road, trailed by shambling, limping things. A badger with its face bared to one side. A housecat with crushed paws. A stag with blood-matted fur and cracked antlers.
Car headlights flashed by. She narrowed her eyes at them, but didn’t slow her pace.
She only stopped when she found a rabbit smeared at the side of the road.
She picked it up and hummed a spell, red threads stretching between her fingers like a spider’s web.
She wrapped the rabbit in those red threads and smoothed its fur, massaged its horrible wounds.… Read more
She saw on TV that ghosts made things cold, and she’d always had chilly feet at night.
So she found a stone with a hole through the middle and she waited under the covers until the chill made her toes curl.
Gently, she sat up, closing one eye and holding the stone up to the other.
Shimmering and thin as a beam of moonlight, the cat stretched and resettled on her feet.
She smiled and went back to bed, careful not to kick.
She’d always wanted a cat.
Image by Mihail_hukuna, used under CC0… Read more