A New Friend

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

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


I let the cat nuzzle at my fingertips and then rub its cheek down the length of my fingers. It had been far too long since I had a cat. When I moved out of my parents house, I hadn't had the time or money to take care of one and cats aren't even much of a burden compared to most pets. Even fish need their tanks cleaned from time to time.

“What's your name?” I asked, gathering its collar into my hand.

The cat backpedaled at the unwanted link and I had to choose between choking it and letting it go. I didn't that care that much about the name. So I let go which bowled the cat over will all that pent up energy and it got to its feet blinking at me.

Its fur was silver with short black stripes down its back making it look like an inverted x-ray of a cartoon fish. "I'll just call you Fishbone until we get to know each other better. Is that okay with you?"

It gingerly approached me which I took for some kind of agreement.

"Nice to meet you, Fishbone." I said, scratching the cat contentedly. "My name's Amy."


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