City Reds

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.

Story is marked as mature.

I flopped around on my bed trying to find a cooler spot. My bedroom window was open but it didn’t help against the stale heat of the day. Scratch watched me with furrowed eyes completely comfortable in his fur coat. I flipped him off. “Stupid cat.”

He licked his lips and looked away, his tail twisting back and forth like a pendulum.

Grabbing a handful of the sheet, I pulled the cloth up over my sweltering flesh and kicked it back off almost immediately. This fucking sucked. This city fucking sucked. I couldn’t believe that I chose to move here of my own free will. Maybe it was time to reconsider that decision.

Scratch’s ears twitched. Then he jumped up and bolted for the front door.

Evidently I had a visitor.

I pushed myself up and off the bed not even bothering to put on pants before following Scratch to the door. Whoever visits me after ten, does do at their own risk. Plus it was hotter than Satan's balls.

Scratch sat off to one side. He had no interest in going outside but he loved playing bouncer.


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Comments (3 so far!)



Why hello! Welcome to Ficlatte.

There's a sense of vague disenchantment in this story that I see often in people, which you've captured very well.

  • #498 Posted 8 years ago
  • 0


I love the interaction with the cat. Fun attitude for your protagonist.

  • #501 Posted 8 years ago
  • 0
ElshaHawk LoA

ElshaHawk LoA

Hot and cranky.. I hope the person at the door is ready for that!

  • #511 Posted 8 years ago
  • 0


This story's tags are

  • Published 8 years ago and featured 8 years ago.
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