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Sincerely, the Cat
Sunlight streamed through the wooden shutters and trickled along the floor creating a pool of light in the middle of the room. A warm breeze swirled around the bed, and a cat yawned widely. She used her claws and scratched her ears before arching her back and yawning again. She was a magnificent Bengal/tabby creature with ears that perked up at the slightest sounds, yellow eyes that glowed whenever excited and black patterns on her sleek fur. Her fur shimmered as she leaped down from the bed gracefully, glancing at herself in the mirror. Licking some stray hairs that had been disturbed by her nap, she strutted out the door and into the kitchen. The sweet aroma of breakfast filled the air and she couldn’t wait to finally eat.
“Bliar, you’re finally awake?” a girl’s voice asked. Blair meowed in response. Of course, every cat had to have a suitable owner. And no question about it, Blair’s owner, Isabel, was the best human ever. Isabel had long flowing ebony hair and dark brown eyes. She was perfect in Blair’s eyes, for Isabel was a model student with top grades, was exceptional at violin-playing, and had a loving personality. Just as Blair loved Isabel, Isabel loved Blair just as much.
Blair flinched as she heard the water run in the bathroom. Using her tail as a launcher, she sprang onto the countertop. Following her nose, she walked along the edge until her paw encountered a porcelain plate. Blair’s mouth watered as she unlifted the covering to reveal a baked fish that was covered in a rich sauce and adorned with different herbs. She started at the fish intently and making sure that no one was watching, she nibbled the edge before tearing a portion with her razor-sharp teeth. Blair jumped off the table, landing on her feet as all cats did. She feigned a look of innocence as she shuffled across the tiled floor, but two hands suddenly lifted her up and Blair found herself facing an irritated Isabel. Blair gulped and squirmed, but Isabel held her firmly. She meowed loudly as Isabel glanced at the portion of fish left on the plate, before raising her eyebrows. Oh no, Blair thought, Looks like no lunch for me today. Holding Blair by the scruff, Isabel marched out of the house and dropped Blair outside the door.
“Blair, how many times did I tell you? Don’t touch the food before you’re supposed to! What if you had been poisoned?” scolded Isabel. Blair hung her head guiltily and slunk away.
The wind whirled through the air as tender buds swayed. Blair ambled through the tall green grass with her tail high. The scent of fragrant blossoms filled her nose. She ran through the field feeling the sun’s beams warm her fur. Her shadow followed her while Blair took in her surroundings. A lovely meadow stretched as far as the eye could see, alluring flowers that seduced everyone who laid their eyes on them, and a shimmering lake encompassed by towering reeds. Blair couldn’t think of any other place that she would’ve wanted to live at. Roaming through the field was one of Blair and Isabel’s favorite pastimes. Nothing could convey a sense of freedom than sprinting together in the endless pasture of bright sunlight and blossoming flowers.
A stray tree root abruptly caught Blair’s paw. Blair tripped over the root and tumbled through the grass, coming to a stop in front of the lake. Gazing at her reflection, Blair licked her fur back into place and removed a leaf caught on her tail. The number 1 rule that all cats must follow: Always look your best. I’m the perfect example of that, Blair thought to herself smugly. Turning around, Blair suddenly came face to face with….. A mouse.
What the heck, thought a surprised Blair. About to walk away, the mouse swiftly grabbed her tail and asked with wide eyes, “Miss? Can you tell me where the big red rose is? I’m trying to visit my Aunt’s house for lunch.” Looking at the tiny gray mouse with huge pink ears, Blair raised her paw, about to smite this tiny creature into oblivion. However, she hesitated as the mouse stared up at her with a pure and almost child-like expression. Blair shook her head, Just kill the mouse, your ancestors would be proud, Blair chided herself, but glancing at the mouse, she could see a part of herself. It reminded her of how Isabel and Blair had met, at the cold and abandoned pet shop, where Blair’s only wish was to be loved. Sighing, Blair leaned down, “Fine, come here,” Blair said, stretching a paw. The little mouse instantly hopped onto Blair’s paw and grinned, “Thank you very much miss!” she answered. Together, they strolled around the meadow until finally, a huge red rose appeared in the distance. “Look!” the mouse chittered excitedly, “My aunt lives right under that rose.” Approaching the rose, they indeed saw a larger mouse awaiting them with open arms. As Blair lowered the tiny mouse onto the ground, she glanced at the large mouse with curious eyes.
“Are you not afraid of me?” Blair asked. The mouse laughed, a tinkling squeaky sound.
“Why would I be? I’ve lived here for about a year now, but you’re different from the other cats, No?” the mouse answered, smiling sweetly. Blair bowed her head. The tiny mouse suddenly grabbed onto Blair’s paw. “Will miss visit aunty and I again?” she asked with huge eyes. Unable to resist, Blair patted the mouse lightly to avoid squashing the poor critter, “Of course, I will always visit when I can.” With that, Blair beckoned farewell and ran back towards the house in front of the lake. It had certainly been an interesting day.
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This article has 2 comments.
just a quick tip in short stories in general(i get this is a descriptive thing) saying what the character looks like is generally irrelevant. in fact, try writing something where you just allude to whats going on in some cases, especially important stuff. for example, in a battle scene if you hint to the reader about blood and gore, instead of give them a safety net by describing exactly what it looks and feels like, you could allude to it being there but let them imagine it themselves. in some cases it wont be a big deal and they might be irritated that its not more ecxplict, but in others it arrouses the fear of the unknown. if you tell them just how far it goes, they feel safe knowing your there to keep it bounded in. but let them picture it themself and they might discover just how deep the darker, hidden parts of their minds are. fear sparks interest. its a tool I use when writing abuse scenes, and also because I don't want to be triggering or anything. but ill say "she winced as new bruises formed" when you know the abuser is angry and coming towards her and you know shes getting hurt... but how? anyways, that was long. hope it helped. oh, wait no, there's more. descriptions are often irrelevant, unless for some reason the character having purple hair is a crucial plot point, it can distract from the story. with books, which are longer and more in depth, you want your character to have an appearance.
oh! ok I'm all over the place and I don't feel like editing. but I just wrote a scene where the main character was forced to kill somebody and I used what I was talking about. i told it from her end but vaguely... nvm I'm just going to copy paste it.
Ayuna shot up her sword, every muscle in her body straining to put it in its target. She wanted this to end now. Red blood, hot and alive, sprang from the other girl, landing in the snow and leaving it red. She tried not to see it. The hot tears of horror in her eyes froze instantly into sparkling diamonds as she stuck again. For the last time.
i just realized I don't know why I'm qualified to tell you how to write. ok, ill go away now.
This short story is dedicated to my best friend Isabel, and her beloved cat, Blair. This story doesn't have a clear plot, but rather focuses more on descriptive writing. Hope you enjoy it!