mari4212: Library rules (Library)
The worst thing about having my computer hard drive die twice when I was in the Philippines was that I lost fic that I had been writing. Two stories in particular were irreplaceable, I thought.

...guess what I found hidden in the recesses of my e-mail accounts? And of course, I didn't find either by searching for them by title. I found one looking for a phone number, and the other by finally bothering to search for "kitty story".

Yes, Mom and Dad, I finally found the Right Side of the Door story again!

I also found the nano story that I'd written back when I was teaching for Americorps. Which, I need desperately to re-read through it and figure out where I was going next with it, and then I should probably start writing on it again just to see if I can finish it successfully. I know I need to work on introducing all the ghosts earlier on in the narrative, and that I need to actually get my head around the whole plot issue.
mari4212: calla lily against a black background (Default)
Stop me if you’ve heard this one.

A Scotsman was, well, let’s say he was rather tired from his journey. I mean, I say tired, but the pub was rather inviting, seeing as the local team just won the footie tournament, and no one is ever going to turn down a free drink or two, amiright?

So anyway, he’s more than a bit tired, and he decides he’s going to take a kip beside the road for a bit. Yes, in broad daylight, what are you going to do about it?

And these two girls come past and see the Scotsman. Of course, they know he’s a Scotsman because of the kilt, though it’s not as if plenty of non-Scots aren’t walking around in kilts as well these days. I guess they could tell because his kilt was actually made of wool, or didn’t have those odd dangly chains attached that seem so popular with a certain subset of Americans.

Like I was saying, these two girls come past and see the Scotsman. Now, I don’t know what they’re teaching young girls in this day, but I certainly wouldn’t have bet any friend of mine anything to go and lift the kilt up. There’s time later in life to stare at something which isn’t all that objectively nice-looking. And if nothing else, they’re going to college later on, they’ll get plenty of guys flashing them as a dare from their fraternity brothers, or who just forgot where the bathroom was and decided that the dorm stairway was an adequate substitute. Not that I’m speaking from experience or anything like that. That’s all just hypothetical, I hope you understand.

Where was I? Oh yes, so these girls, who certainly should have been doing something more interesting, decided to check and make sure that this tired Scotsman was wearing his kilt properly. I’d understand it more if I knew he looked like Ewan McGregor or that guy from Highlander, you know, the one with the muscles and the ponytail, but he was rather ordinary looking, so I really don’t know what they were thinking. Or why they decided, after sneaking a peak, that the only proper thing to do next was to tie a ribbon down there.

But anyway, they did, and went on their way. The next thing I hear tell, the Scotsman wakes up, heads over into the bushes, and decides that certain portions of his anatomy were capable of wandering about all by their lonesome. Though he’s certainly gotten an ego about it all, which I don’t get. After all, I’ve seen it myself, and unless you’re a very young girl who hasn’t figured out access to certain portions of the internet, there’s not much impressive about it.
mari4212: calla lily against a black background (Default)
Her paws ached from the cold, almost drowning out the near-constant pangs of hunger. It had all seemed so much easier before, when she was younger and the world was warmer. She was The Great Calico Huntress, but mice were hard to find since the grass grew brown and the trees were bare. Squirrels were faster, and birds less prevalent. White stuff had started falling from the sky, cold and wet on her paws.

The only source of regular food was humans, it seemed. When she could get past the other cats, there were humans who would leave out food and sometimes stroke out the tense points at the back of her neck. That was the trick, though. The humans who left food out were few, and other cats plentiful. Relying on only outdoor food wasn’t going to work. Somehow, she was going to have to do what she’d seen other cats pull off, and make it inside a house. Having a human as a pet could be useful. Then she’d have food, and maybe more of those strokes that felt nice. Well, she was The Great Calico Huntress, wasn’t she? Anything those other cats could do, she could probably do even better. She was sure of it.

Her first few attempts were failures. Well, not actual failures, of course. Merely attempts to gain useful information that hadn’t gone quite as planned. She certainly had no interest in taking on any human who didn’t recognize the honor it was to have a cat chose their home. It was strange, though, that humans seemed to take it so poorly to have a beautiful cat walk in the front door alongside them. Still, what she had learned was quite interesting. Humans did seem to recognize cats as wonderful, and would bestow the strokes if a cat demonstrated appropriate affection first. Maybe they were just slow learners? Perhaps if she started off by being affectionate, she would convince a human that it was actually their idea to take her into their house and provide the appropriate food.

There was a girl who walked past the huntress’s territory on a regular basis. She often smelled like happy cat, but not like there were too many in her house. The Great Calico Huntress would try her new strategy on the girl, the next time she passed by. Maybe that would work better.

Her paws twinged again with the cold. Hopefully, the girl would be back soon.


mari4212: calla lily against a black background (Default)

February 2017

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