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The Cat's Out of the Bag

Another quick bit of flash fiction from the Horde:

The Cat's Out of the Bag

by

Rebecca Lickiss

“Me O is back!” Jack shouted as he picked the large black cat up. He stroked the silky soft fur. The cat's rumbling purr echoed in the mud room.

Janice ran into the room. “Me O, why did you run off? You scared us.” She reached over to take the cat from Jack's arms. “Bad kitty.” She rubbed her cheek against the soft, black fur on the top of the cat's head.

“What's this?” Jack's hand had found a collar buried in Me O's fur.

A tag was attached to the fake leather collar. It had an address five houses down from theirs.

“Why would they put a collar on our cat?” Janice asked.

“Why give a cat a stupid name like Fluffy?” Jack asked.

Holding tightly to their cat, Jack and Janice headed down the street.

Two doors down another neighbor, Jim Smith, looked up from his weeding as they walked past. Jim stood up. “Hey you found Midnight!”

Jack and Janice stopped. Jack said patiently, “This is our cat, Me O.”

“Nah, that's Midnight.” Jim rubbed his dirt and grass stained finger under the chin and behind the ear of the sleek black cat. The cat purred and arched his head for more.

Jack and Janice showed Jim the collar and the tag. The three continued down the street to the address on the tag.

At the trim, well-kept house of the address on the tag, they found a couple who were very excited to see Fluffy. Though Jack and Janice claimed him as Me O, and Jim, of course, said he was Midnight.

As they argued on the porch, the little old lady from across the street came to get her poor, precious, poppet Pitchie. Soon a good portion of the neighborhood was standing around in the street arguing and fighting over the contented cat.

Eventually someone called the police. The police car parked next to the crowd milling around the street. A large, stern uniformed officer exited the car. “What's going on here?”

The crowd parted. The black cat leapt from the arms that restrained him, stalked quickly over to rub against the officer's ankles.

He looked in surprise at the cat. “Crook, you old reprobate. What are you doing here?”

The end.


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