| Fantasy Fiction posted September 22, 2020 |
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time to work
Street Performer
by mermaids
My name is Nigel and I live with my human, Eloise. We have a great life here in our house. I spend my days either sleeping or staring at myself in a mirror.
"Is that me? Or another pussy cat?"
I sit for hours admiring the all white poofy feline. I often imagine it another cat who is admiring me.
My human came home one day very upset. She is being laid off from her job. Something called downsizing. I feel bad for her. Then I realize we may have to change our way of living. Less fresh fish and catnip. No more comfy beds to nap on. The thought sends chills up my delicate spine.
"What can I do?"
I return to my mirror and stare at my image for several hours. Nothing comes to mind. So I hop on my human's bed and sleep for several more hours. When I wake up, an idea arrives in my head.
I will be a street performer. My gold feeding bowl can be the money jar. I can stand and pose. The picture above is me as a tribble from Star Trek. I will stand up with my exotic derriere in the air. I will do a little jig. I will make a fortune and my human and I will continue to live in comfort.
So it is time for packing our bags and off to the Big Easy where I will join the variety of street performers. Come and see my eloquent statuesque form and admire my beauty.
My name is Nigel and I live with my human, Eloise. We have a great life here in our house. I spend my days either sleeping or staring at myself in a mirror.
"Is that me? Or another pussy cat?"
I sit for hours admiring the all white poofy feline. I often imagine it another cat who is admiring me.
My human came home one day very upset. She is being laid off from her job. Something called downsizing. I feel bad for her. Then I realize we may have to change our way of living. Less fresh fish and catnip. No more comfy beds to nap on. The thought sends chills up my delicate spine.
"What can I do?"
I return to my mirror and stare at my image for several hours. Nothing comes to mind. So I hop on my human's bed and sleep for several more hours. When I wake up, an idea arrives in my head.
I will be a street performer. My gold feeding bowl can be the money jar. I can stand and pose. The picture above is me as a tribble from Star Trek. I will stand up with my exotic derriere in the air. I will do a little jig. I will make a fortune and my human and I will continue to live in comfort.
So it is time for packing our bags and off to the Big Easy where I will join the variety of street performers. Come and see my eloquent statuesque form and admire my beauty.
"Is that me? Or another pussy cat?"
I sit for hours admiring the all white poofy feline. I often imagine it another cat who is admiring me.
My human came home one day very upset. She is being laid off from her job. Something called downsizing. I feel bad for her. Then I realize we may have to change our way of living. Less fresh fish and catnip. No more comfy beds to nap on. The thought sends chills up my delicate spine.
"What can I do?"
I return to my mirror and stare at my image for several hours. Nothing comes to mind. So I hop on my human's bed and sleep for several more hours. When I wake up, an idea arrives in my head.
I will be a street performer. My gold feeding bowl can be the money jar. I can stand and pose. The picture above is me as a tribble from Star Trek. I will stand up with my exotic derriere in the air. I will do a little jig. I will make a fortune and my human and I will continue to live in comfort.
So it is time for packing our bags and off to the Big Easy where I will join the variety of street performers. Come and see my eloquent statuesque form and admire my beauty.
 Recognized |
On a trip to New Orleans many years ago, I saw many street performers. One of our late cats, Gideon, a fluffy Persian, often would stare at himself in the mirror. He is the inspiration for this feline tale.
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