Yellow.
What a stupid name for a cat.
Audrey studies the little creature as he tumbles and rolls in her lap, one tiny paw swiping out when a finger ventures too close. He isn't even yellow, that kitten. He's as gray as chimney smoke.
"You're a silly little thing," she mutters, knuckling the top of Yellow's little skull. The kitten stares up at her with big yellow eyes, opens his mouth and meows. It's a pitiful little sound, ragged and high pitched but it gets a smile out of Audrey nonetheless.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you, you weird little thing. I wonder where Fleck found you?"
She shudders at the thought. Maybe some things are best left up to the imagination, but then again her imagination is rife with horrible, terrible things with horrible, terrible teeth and rotten eyes. Yellow puffs up into a little ball of fluff and, bored with the human, he hops off Audrey's lap and busies himself with a wayward bottle cap.
"You're not even listening to me, are you?"
The cat looks up at her as if to say No, I'm really not, before going back to swatting at the little plastic lid.
"I thought so."
Audrey almost feels dejected. Never in a million years would she have thought that a soda pop lid would be more interesting than her. It's a lesson in humility dished out by something that she could easily drop kick through a window. She sighs and, in a moment of utter boredom, fishes another lid from her ashtray with her fingers and places it on her lap. She turns her gaze to the kitten for just a few seconds and then swipes at her own cap. It tumbles to the floor and Yellow is on it before she can even blink.
"I don't see what the big deal is. It's just a piece of trash."
Maybe it actually makes a dent in that tiny feline brain because Yellow abandons his prizes and pads over to Audrey's feet. She imagines him saying One person's trash is a kitten's playground and then she realizes just how very sad the situation is.
"So, I guess I have to buy you a bed and some food, right?" Freaking freeloader.
The kitten arches his back and rubs against her legs, a gesture more claiming than affectionate and Audrey knows the motive behind it all too well. She leans forward and scoops Yellow up, presses her nose against against his and stares into those creepy yellow eyes.
"I'm thinking Fleck might have named you after the wrong color."
Yellow begins to purr like a tiny little car engine before opening his mouth and biting Audrey on the nose. It's not a hard bite but it's enough to get his point across. She drops him to the floor out of a shock more than pain and of course he lands on all fours. Tail stuck in the air in what Audrey can only imagine as cat smugness, Yellow curls up into a ball at Audrey's feet.
I'm not a doll, human thing. I'm a cat. Now let me sleep or get out of my house.
She opens her mouth to say something and then realizes the folly in such a thing. She's pretending he can talk and the last thing she's going to do is argue with herself. Yellow is just a cat. Just a cat and nothing more. He's not like Chester. He doesn't sing or dance or write jaunty limericks on bathroom stalls that usually include her phone number.
"You're just a cat," she repeats to herself, "Even in Rhydin, there has to be just plain old non-talking cats, right?"
"Right," replies a tiny little voice somewhere on the floor.
Audrey's eyes widen and she shakes if off. Just her mind playing tricks on her. She drags her feet onto the couch, tucks her legs beneath a dark blue fleece throw and nuzzles her head against a small pillow.
Long after she's asleep, convinced that she's hallucinating due to sleep deprivation, the kitten claws his way up and onto the couch and finds a cozy spot on Audrey's side. As his sharp little nails begin kneading the blanket on top of the girl he stares at her face.
"Night night human," Yellow rattles out in a small voice that fits his small, furry body. He stretches out on top of her, claws still hooked in the fabric of the blanket, and drifts off to sleep.
What a stupid name for a cat.
Audrey studies the little creature as he tumbles and rolls in her lap, one tiny paw swiping out when a finger ventures too close. He isn't even yellow, that kitten. He's as gray as chimney smoke.
"You're a silly little thing," she mutters, knuckling the top of Yellow's little skull. The kitten stares up at her with big yellow eyes, opens his mouth and meows. It's a pitiful little sound, ragged and high pitched but it gets a smile out of Audrey nonetheless.
"Yeah, I'm talking to you, you weird little thing. I wonder where Fleck found you?"
She shudders at the thought. Maybe some things are best left up to the imagination, but then again her imagination is rife with horrible, terrible things with horrible, terrible teeth and rotten eyes. Yellow puffs up into a little ball of fluff and, bored with the human, he hops off Audrey's lap and busies himself with a wayward bottle cap.
"You're not even listening to me, are you?"
The cat looks up at her as if to say No, I'm really not, before going back to swatting at the little plastic lid.
"I thought so."
Audrey almost feels dejected. Never in a million years would she have thought that a soda pop lid would be more interesting than her. It's a lesson in humility dished out by something that she could easily drop kick through a window. She sighs and, in a moment of utter boredom, fishes another lid from her ashtray with her fingers and places it on her lap. She turns her gaze to the kitten for just a few seconds and then swipes at her own cap. It tumbles to the floor and Yellow is on it before she can even blink.
"I don't see what the big deal is. It's just a piece of trash."
Maybe it actually makes a dent in that tiny feline brain because Yellow abandons his prizes and pads over to Audrey's feet. She imagines him saying One person's trash is a kitten's playground and then she realizes just how very sad the situation is.
"So, I guess I have to buy you a bed and some food, right?" Freaking freeloader.
The kitten arches his back and rubs against her legs, a gesture more claiming than affectionate and Audrey knows the motive behind it all too well. She leans forward and scoops Yellow up, presses her nose against against his and stares into those creepy yellow eyes.
"I'm thinking Fleck might have named you after the wrong color."
Yellow begins to purr like a tiny little car engine before opening his mouth and biting Audrey on the nose. It's not a hard bite but it's enough to get his point across. She drops him to the floor out of a shock more than pain and of course he lands on all fours. Tail stuck in the air in what Audrey can only imagine as cat smugness, Yellow curls up into a ball at Audrey's feet.
I'm not a doll, human thing. I'm a cat. Now let me sleep or get out of my house.
She opens her mouth to say something and then realizes the folly in such a thing. She's pretending he can talk and the last thing she's going to do is argue with herself. Yellow is just a cat. Just a cat and nothing more. He's not like Chester. He doesn't sing or dance or write jaunty limericks on bathroom stalls that usually include her phone number.
"You're just a cat," she repeats to herself, "Even in Rhydin, there has to be just plain old non-talking cats, right?"
"Right," replies a tiny little voice somewhere on the floor.
Audrey's eyes widen and she shakes if off. Just her mind playing tricks on her. She drags her feet onto the couch, tucks her legs beneath a dark blue fleece throw and nuzzles her head against a small pillow.
Long after she's asleep, convinced that she's hallucinating due to sleep deprivation, the kitten claws his way up and onto the couch and finds a cozy spot on Audrey's side. As his sharp little nails begin kneading the blanket on top of the girl he stares at her face.
"Night night human," Yellow rattles out in a small voice that fits his small, furry body. He stretches out on top of her, claws still hooked in the fabric of the blanket, and drifts off to sleep.