Humor
A Cat Called Eggs
I first caught sight of Eggs, The Ginger Terror, as he flew out of my peripheral vision, an orange streak of light in hot pursuit of an enormous black cat that I had nicknamed ‘The Panther.’ The Panther had earned his moniker by merit of his largeness and his predilection for pouncing on field mice from the limbs of an old, twisted apple tree that stood in a vacant lot across the street. The tree now provided sanctuary as he shot up its trunk to a top limb. Fast on his heels, Eggs stopped only at its base, satisfied at having treed his quarry. He stood firm for a moment, staring up at The Panther, his tail held straight and high, like a puffy orange battle flag. Then he turned and trotted purposefully back towards our building. “Wow.” I said out loud, to no one. “That cat is a badass.” Mr. Beans whined from behind the screen door. He had been watching the chase scene with intense enthusiasm, as chasing things is his primary interest in life.
By Heather Walters5 years ago in Fiction
A Cat Called Eggs. Top Story - December 2021.
I first caught sight of Eggs, The Ginger Terror, as he flew out of my peripheral vision, an orange streak of light in hot pursuit of an enormous black cat that I had nicknamed ‘The Panther.’ The Panther had earned his moniker by merit of his largeness and his predilection for pouncing on field mice from the limbs of an old, twisted apple tree that stood in a vacant lot across the street. The tree now provided sanctuary as he shot up its trunk to a top limb. Fast on his heels, Eggs stopped only at its base, satisfied at having treed his quarry. He stood firm for a moment, staring up at The Panther, his tail held straight and high, like a puffy orange battle flag. Then he turned and trotted purposefully back towards our building. “Wow.” I said out loud, to no one. “That cat is a badass.” Mr. Beans whined from behind the screen door. He had been watching the chase scene with intense enthusiasm, as chasing things is his primary interest in life.
By Heather Walters5 years ago in Fiction
Why Florida's Mail Moves So Slowly
I am not a USPS driver nor will I probably ever be. So realize this story is an entirely fictional take on a day in the job. Also the Florida Man story in this piece is also fictional as far as I know. If you happen to know of a story that has a lot of similarities then please share it with me.
By Josephine Mason5 years ago in Fiction
Erratic Fiction
He lies sprawled on my bed, arms and legs tied up, a can of whipped cream waiting invitingly on the end table by his blindfolded head. He’s a sight to behold, all right: three hundred pounds with bumps in all the wrong places. This is about to get freaky, I think as I shake up the can of whipped cream. Real freaky . . . What the fuck?
By McKenzie Price5 years ago in Fiction
Minister Fer Roads
Minister fer Roads _______________ I live in South Morang near Melbourne, Australia. What’s interesting about that is there isn't a Morang; no North Morang and no East or West Morang just South Morang and while I’m talking about whacky suburb names, how about this one: Just up the road from here there’s Whittlesea. True. Whittlesea. Nearest bit of coast is over an hour’s drive away. Can’t you feel sorry for the poor bugger who bought a boat and moved there?
By Suzsi Mandeville5 years ago in Fiction
