I told you yesterday Mom is writing a Mr. Sugar story for a Mardi Gras anthology, and said I would swipe a snippet to post here. So here it is:
“Mr. Sugar v the Cake Thief” – excerpt
by Marian Allen
The door opened. I crouched, prepared to run if lying low failed to make me invisible. Mrs. DiMarco had a throwing arm that would be the envy of many a Major League pitcher, and an uncertain temper.
The screen door screeched, and the woman herself stepped onto the porch, carrying a broom and dustpan.
I won’t describe her. She was human, so who cares what she looks like? My invisibility wish didn’t work, because she saw me – she was amazingly perceptive, for a human – but she smiled.
“To be honest,” I said, “I missed you.”
“Meow, meow, meow,” she said. “Does that mean, ‘Give me some food,’ I wonder? Does it?”
“No,” I said, “it doesn’t. But, if you’re offering, I wouldn’t turn it down.”
“Meow, meow,” she said. “If you’re still here when I get back, I’ll give you some scrippy-scraps.”
Humans. One can go through the wars with them, one can have a meeting of minds with them, one can understand every word they say, and the most one can hope for is that they’ll be able to tell the difference between distress, anger, hunger, and joy by the tone of one’s voice. True communication is beyond them.
I wonder if she’ll ever put a beautiful short-hair Russian Blue in a story? She ought to, don’t you think?
A WRITING PROMPT FOR ANIMALS: How do you get along with the neighbors?