THE DEAD CAT PROPHET

He hacked away the thorns to get into the stable. Before him lay three furry animal stools, not the kind you sit on. He dispensed with them over/into the hedge. Between the straw bales he saw what he thought was underlay. Underlay with a tail. Then the stench hit him. It, whatever it was, had died months ago but still had its fur. He forked away with enough hamfistedness to give a forensics a heart attack. As it freed itself from the ivy, he guessed upon a cat. The cat was flung to the hedge where its old furry turds now lived.

The next day his neighbour fought tooth, nail and pipette to save the runt kitten of a litter of three.

The Same Ending.

April 16, 2010
Filed Under Future person perfect 

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