Fiction

We’re passionate about more than just gardening and improving your outdoor living room. Our very talented staff member Kathryn regularly writes fictional stories we love to share with you. See below for her first piece.

The Cat

428px-Red_tabby_catI believe this is the day that the humans call Saturday. I know because breakfast hasn’t been served yet, the humans are upstairs with their eyes closed and I’m expected to wait like a child until they decide to venture forth and feed me. Never mind, I digress, it is sunny outside and perhaps whilst I wait, I shall venture out for a stroll.

As I wander now beyond my door I shall describe to you, my dear acquaintances, my world as I see it. For I am a cat of tabby fur and my vision is largely blue, I doze in the day and stalk at night, avoiding the larger, brutish creature which also resides within my home. Even out here I can smell him, the thick fur, the slobber, the dirt. He’s an unsanitary animal, incapable of effectively cleaning his own coat, something that yours truly is perfectly adept at.

The grass feels delectable beneath my feet now as I gaze up at the overhanging trees which shadow the tomato patch in the late hours. I stroll into the morning air and detect the scent of leftovers from the humans on the large wooden surface in the far corner. Investigating further I find that the scraps are no more than an unfinished packet of thin greasy crunches in a red packet which I suspect were left from the celebration the previous evening. I resist them. I shall reserve my morning hunger for the satisfying taste of my own breakfast.

Speaking of which, I now hear noises from within the kitchen. The humans are awake. The patter of the hairy one’s paws on the kitchen floor are barely audible, but my ears tell no lies and I barely have time to run when I see the door open and the brute flies out. He gallops clumsily towards me and I dart without thinking up the side of the wall in the nick of time. His great grey and white body, breathing in the warmth and slobbering all the while looking up at me. He barks noisily and I strain to understand his heathen language well enough to command that he leaves me well alone.

Walking carefully now along the wall, I watch him with my claws sharp and at my ready, I reach the safety of the kitchen and swiftly drop down to the warm embrace of the female human. She pets my well groomed coat before walking to the cupboard and presenting me with a bowlful of breakfast. From the comfort of my favourite velvet cushion now I watch the hairy giant outside as he chases flies and I sigh, closing my eyes contently, as such are the pace my days.

KathrynKathryn works on the marketing team and spends most of her time making our website read better.

She has a degree in English & Creative Writing and loves classic cars, 1970s music and ginger beer.

She writes our fictional stories and seasonal posts.

See all of Kathryn’s posts.

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One thought on “Fiction

  1. Pingback: The Nuttiest Winter Past Time | Primrose Blog

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