Cat dates

The phone buzzed. On it was one new message, consisting of a single word:


In the years they had known each other, a ritual had evolved. Whenever either of them felt down, they would mosey over to the other for some gratuitous cat petting and change of scenery. Nothing much happened during these sessions, other than the taking of comfort in not being alone. The cats, by now more used to it than to anything else in the world, merely purred and accepted the elevated levels of affection.

She answered with the customary affirmative response:


Wait for it

“Tell me a story”

“I have no interesting stories to tell”

“You do not know that. I might find them very interesting”

“But all I have are small fragments of things that happen at the margins. Things that happen, and then you blink and they are gone in a jiffy”

“Reality is a ditty”

“That rhymed”

“Yes. And now you have a story to tell. About that one time I rhymed”

“That was quick”

“Some stories are long, others not. Tell me a short one”

“Okay. So there was this when time, when I was asked to tell a story”