Flash Fiction: The cat

 

We are back at Mille et Une for our Tuesday morning free write. It is cold enough to be inside. The croissants are fresh from the oven. I chose almond tea and Rick went for hot chocolate.

Rather than pick a person walking by, we picked the cat who sits outside a flower shop and spends his day curled up in a chair inside, once the shop is opened.

D-L's Free Write

They were late. The bells in the church tower had struck twice, which meant it was 8:30. People walked by, but not the ones who had a key to the flower shop.

The cat was cold. He had found a new place to sleep at night in a deserted house, protecting him from the Tramontane wind.

He hoped they would arrive soon. He had work to do, curling up on the chair where the owners put his cushion.

Clients would ooh and aah over him, putting them in the mood to buy more.

There he was, José, the owner. He was carrying a bag of kitty kibbles, the cat's salary for being the Official Store Cat.

There was kitty litter in the back room, but he preferred to use the grassy spot across the street later in the day.

José poured the kitty kibbles in the cat dish. "That should hold you."

The cat jumped down and tasted. One of his favorites. 

Life was good. 

Rick's Free Write

He was there every morning, well before the flower shoppe opened at 9. seated on the doorstep, mewing at every passerby: "Let me in please," or since he was a French chat, "SVP, ouvrez la porte."

No one remembers when Felix first appeared. Or whom he belonged to. Probably just one of the many semi-feral cats in the village who sleep rough but exist on the kindness of elderly women who put out kibbles and water.

No doubt he snuck in one warm, sunny day after the shoppe started and the gentile young couple who own it decided he was not much of a bother. 

Each day when they opened the door, Felix would bounce inside and head straight for the chair in the corner. He might easily be mistaken for one of the ceramic knick-knacks on offer he was so still.

Mostly black with a couple of strategic white highlights on the nose and tail, Felix fancied himself high class. 

After all, he did own a flower shoppe.