Archive for June 7th, 2011

7th June
written by amber

Ship Cat

Her paws feel strange. She needs to do something, but she isn’t sure what. She prowls around the ship, hoping to find something to help her remember.

At last she finds it in Brad’s sleeping room. He floats, snoring, as usual. Floating next to him is something soft and furry. She leaps up and catches it, pulls it toward the floor where things stay down, rakes her paws across it.


Later, when Brad and Colleen are having breakfast, the cat limps over to cue her kibble dispenser. Colleen asks, “What happened to the cat?”

“I kicked her out of my room this morning. She was using my teddy bear as a scratching post.”

“She doesn’t have claws, Brad. She couldn’t have hurt it. Poor little thing. Here, Cutie, let me take a look at you.” The cat is gently lifted. “I’m going to scan her. I think you might have dislocated her shoulder.”

“Oh, great. Even more of our resources spent on that stupid cat.”  Brad pushes back from the table, grabs more bacon from the freezer and jams it into the cooker.

“Why don’t you ever call her by her name? She’s named Cutie, not ‘that stupid cat.’ And I thought we agreed you were going to go easy on the bacon.”

“She’s not cute. It’s a stupid name.” Brad gulps down the bacon, then begins to put dishes away. The cat knows that will make Colleen happy.

“You named her.”

“She was cute then. Why don’t we try life without a cat for a while? They should have given us a dog.”

“Let’s not get into that whole dog versus cat again.” She petted Cutie some more, then set her down next to her kibble. “And you know we have to have a cat. You might not think there’s a benefit, but on a trip this long, we’d want to kill each other without some kind of buffer.”

“Well, I’m ready to kill that stupid cat. She’s going to get as bad as Pablo was, you know she is. Why should we go through that again?”

“We had Pablo for eight years, and he was fine for most of that.”

Brad mutters, “Yeah, maybe you could call that fine.”

“I’m pretty sure he had a brain tumor. If you’d let me scan him-”

“No point, no point, Colleen!” He waves his arms around. “We couldn’t do brain surgery on him. Putting him out the vent was more humane.”

Colleen moves between Brad and Cutie. The cat, sensing danger, limps toward the doorway. “And now that’s what you want to do with Cutie? I know why, Brad, I can see right through you.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“You want to thaw another kitten.”

The Story 365 project is a year-long marathon of short story writing, with a new story posted every day on this website from May 1, 2011 – April 30, 2012.  Stories must be a minimum of 200 words.  Please help me by adding first line suggestions in the Comment section.