I aim to write these so that you can enjoy them as stand alone stories, or one after the other. If you'd like to do the latter (they're all very short):
5. How Much Cake is one Soul Worth?
9. Of Bone-crushing Hugs and Healing Purrs
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Her hand ran from the tip of my head, between my silken pointed ears, all the way to the end of my tail. I rippled under it, the cream-coloured fur changing to jet black. I fixed her with my blue stare.
Do it again.
This time orange and black stripes chased her little hand, my ears rounded, my feet grew huge. She squealed in delight to have a tiger cub to play with. I rolled, purring, letting her tickle my stark white tummy, and batting her fingers with my paws.
"How'd you do that?" she wanted to know.
I wasn't sure how to answer, so I changed the subject.
Did your mum get more tuna like I asked?
"Yes."
Not the salty kind?
"Don't think so."
Thank you.
She sat hugging her bare knees, staring at me. This was her habit before a Big Question.
"Why are you different? I mean... You're not so friendly when I'm awake."
The cat she played with in her waking hours was just a regular cat, and I wasn't really a cat at all... but I couldn't tell her that.
Everyone's different here, I told her.
"No they aren't," she said. "I'm not."
It's different for you. You're a child. Children are what they are.
She seemed to accept this explanation. Kids, I've learned, go more on tone than content. Maybe I spoke more truly than I'd realised.
It's scarier for me out there. I could get hurt. You need to remember to be careful when you pick me up, OK?
A guilty expression flitted across her features. Hmm. So that's why Tilly is less friendly.
I have to go, I said, shrinking and losing the stripes.
"You always go," she accused. "Where? I want to come."
Some mad impulse had me abandon caution, and instead of fading from her dream, I padded out of it, beckoning her with my tail.
Stay close, I told her as we left her dream. It can be dangerous.
"Where are we going?"
Shall we see what your mum is dreaming about?
"We can do that?"
If you want.
Her eyes gleamed. What was I doing?
Ready? This is what you need to do...
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Word count (excluding notes): 366
Submitted on 27th March at 13.44
*Quick Author's Note*
First, and most importantly: thank you for reading!
If you enjoyed this story, the best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another.
A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one makes an 87 day streak. I'm also putting them in my Index post.
Thank you
Thank you again! I do my best to reciprocate all reads. Leaving a comment makes that easier. Special thanks to Mike for inspiring the title with his recent piece here. I'd thank Blake, too, but I doubt he'll be reading this.
About the Creator
L.C. Schäfer
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I'm not a writer! I've just had too much coffee!
Sometimes writes under S.E.Holz
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