Morning of Manders.
The task: Write a fragment of a story that is made up entirely of imperative commands: Do this, do that; contemplate the rear end of the woman who is walking out of your life. This exercise will be a sort of second-person narration. 500 words. Details can be found in The 3 a.m. Epiphany by Brian Kiteley.
Wake up, wake up! Hear that stomach rumbling?
Snuzzle her gently. Meow a little; see if that works. Knock the cell phone to the floor, and don’t get pushed off the bed in the process.
Lick her eyes; see if they’re open. Any luck yet?
Try a head butt. Or, better yet, break out the claws and go for the hair.
Speak! Make your need known! Do not allow yourself to be ignored like this – oh, the humanity!
Try it one more time – pull at the hair a little.
Ah, now, rejoice in the victory! Go ahead into the bathroom; beat her to her own punch. Wait! Stop! About-face! Change of plans - head straight for the bedroom door and lead the way to the food bowl.
Crap! Don’t fall into the trap and let her -- close the door in your face, like that. Again! Every. Single. Day.
OK, OK, calm down. Get a grip. Just wait a little while. Curl up here. Pay her back later when she wants to cuddle or play. Show her who’s boss. Rule like the majestic princess of the wild that you are. Heh.
Don’t you think an hour’s been a long enough wait? Glare at the stinkin’ dog prancing downstairs to his food bowl, and decide that it’s time to take action.
Evaluate the distance to the doorknob and assess your energy stores. Formulate a plan for attack: Go for the dog and his clearly substandard (yet rather accessible) cuisine, or wake up that lazy bum of an “owner”.
Fret over the difficult life of a cat.
And leap for the doorknob. Rattle it. Try again – get your paws around it. Don’t give up. Hear that movement inside the room? Don’t quit now. Jump and body slam. Ignore the pain – it’s gain or something stupid like that.
Take a break and lick yourself. Take your mind off your hunger. Get that spot right back there – that’s better.
Spring for the knob again. Pause. Listen! Buzzing! Ooh, a fly; where’s it going? Focus on the fly. Stare at it intensely. Don’t let it get away. Crouch down. Rev up those back paws. Be prepared. Wait for it. Wait for it.
Pounce!
Crunch on the fly.
Remain wholly unsatisfied. Attempt to tackle the door again.
Success! Meow loudly, plaintively. Make your starvation known to the world and especially that bratty dog downstairs. Run down to the closet and spin in a circle, lest that blasted owner get confused again about what she went downstairs for. Ensure that she’s opening the closet, and then dash over to the clearly empty food bowl. Lick it so she knows where to put the delectable morsels.
Shoot sidelong glance at owner in a passive-aggressive attempt to demonstrate your frustration over her ineptitude.
Eat! Eat! Eat!
Stop talking to yourself, cat, and eat before the Evil Entity of Canine robs you of your well-earned prize.
Wait. Slow down. Don’t eat so fast. Remember how you threw it all up last time and ended up starving for the rest of the day? Refrain from demonstrating bulimic behavior.
Purr.
Succumb to the exhaustion of your battle for food. Climb back into bed next to apparently lazy owner and allow yourself to be held. Cuddled. Stroked. Bring on the snooze.
Wake up, wake up! Hear that stomach rumbling?
Snuzzle her gently. Meow a little; see if that works. Knock the cell phone to the floor, and don’t get pushed off the bed in the process.
Lick her eyes; see if they’re open. Any luck yet?
Try a head butt. Or, better yet, break out the claws and go for the hair.
Speak! Make your need known! Do not allow yourself to be ignored like this – oh, the humanity!
Try it one more time – pull at the hair a little.
Ah, now, rejoice in the victory! Go ahead into the bathroom; beat her to her own punch. Wait! Stop! About-face! Change of plans - head straight for the bedroom door and lead the way to the food bowl.
Crap! Don’t fall into the trap and let her -- close the door in your face, like that. Again! Every. Single. Day.
OK, OK, calm down. Get a grip. Just wait a little while. Curl up here. Pay her back later when she wants to cuddle or play. Show her who’s boss. Rule like the majestic princess of the wild that you are. Heh.
Don’t you think an hour’s been a long enough wait? Glare at the stinkin’ dog prancing downstairs to his food bowl, and decide that it’s time to take action.
Evaluate the distance to the doorknob and assess your energy stores. Formulate a plan for attack: Go for the dog and his clearly substandard (yet rather accessible) cuisine, or wake up that lazy bum of an “owner”.
Fret over the difficult life of a cat.
And leap for the doorknob. Rattle it. Try again – get your paws around it. Don’t give up. Hear that movement inside the room? Don’t quit now. Jump and body slam. Ignore the pain – it’s gain or something stupid like that.
Take a break and lick yourself. Take your mind off your hunger. Get that spot right back there – that’s better.
Spring for the knob again. Pause. Listen! Buzzing! Ooh, a fly; where’s it going? Focus on the fly. Stare at it intensely. Don’t let it get away. Crouch down. Rev up those back paws. Be prepared. Wait for it. Wait for it.
Pounce!
Crunch on the fly.
Remain wholly unsatisfied. Attempt to tackle the door again.
Success! Meow loudly, plaintively. Make your starvation known to the world and especially that bratty dog downstairs. Run down to the closet and spin in a circle, lest that blasted owner get confused again about what she went downstairs for. Ensure that she’s opening the closet, and then dash over to the clearly empty food bowl. Lick it so she knows where to put the delectable morsels.
Shoot sidelong glance at owner in a passive-aggressive attempt to demonstrate your frustration over her ineptitude.
Eat! Eat! Eat!
Stop talking to yourself, cat, and eat before the Evil Entity of Canine robs you of your well-earned prize.
Wait. Slow down. Don’t eat so fast. Remember how you threw it all up last time and ended up starving for the rest of the day? Refrain from demonstrating bulimic behavior.
Purr.
Succumb to the exhaustion of your battle for food. Climb back into bed next to apparently lazy owner and allow yourself to be held. Cuddled. Stroked. Bring on the snooze.
posted by Heather at 12:11 PM
4 Comments:
A little Cat Hai ku
All a cat needs is
food, warmth, love, security.
By the way - you too.
Loved the Morning of Manders!
Why was I not made aware of this fabulous blog ??? I guess I'll forgive you since reading these short stories totally made my Friday! You are the only blogger with multiple blogs that I not only actually read all of them (entirely!), but can't decide which is my favorite!!
Great story! Loved it.
A page out of my own playbook, except I would also add "Pull back the covers gently. See if moms respond. If not, escalate. Yank the covers off moms and lick their armpits for good measure."
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