Always on guard.
Always on guard.
A Word From Choupette.
She may not look like it, but Choupette is the Queen of the local strays, always first on the scene when there’s dinner around. The cats of La Curie have a devoted coterie of humans who deliver food at regular intervals.
Hey, its me, I’m back. Got any food? I like your stuff, it’s different. Good old Gloria gets us fresh meat from the butchers, well and good, but hmmmm. Bit samey. Depends on what’s spare that day, don’t always get the boeuf d’Aubrac, you know?
Biscuits, yeah plenty of them. Biscuit Lady is pretty punctual, we won’t starve, right?
But you man, those sachets! You don’t speak French too well, I know that, but you got it right. Lots of gelée…. good greasy stuff to lick off the chops. Fishy sometimes too, that makes a change. Plus the human stuff….. we cats like variety. Your poulet roti is getting better and hey… we loved the bit of mousse de canard last week, almost like proper cat food.
Craving? Well, a girl’s gotta eat, round here we eat as often as we can. Wish you spoke a bit more French though dude. You got any of that saucisse de toulouse round the place?
I made this one for a Friday 13th post. As luck would have it, (2 Friday 13ths later) the prompt was something different that day.
So…. here’s one I made earlier!
(always wanted to say that!)
You might stumble upon love, although your path seems full of potholes.
You walk into a pachinko parlour and finally make your fortune, despite all the odds.
A grand piano falls out of a upstairs window and misses you by inches, the luckiest day of your life.
You finally get that black cat crossing your path, or you might cross his path.
You might even predict what the Photo Challenge is going to be.
In today’s writing challenge, you’ll choose a scenario (or invent your own) and write a poem, a short story, a vignette, a scene, or flash fiction based on Nighthawks by Edward Hopper.
Well I hate making a mess, hey Red, you got an ashtray? Take your time, the man needs his drink first up. Yeah I got a light,the lady’s got one for me. Just right there when I need it. You know I was wondering about that match-book. One of you was bound to still have it, you’re all tidy people. You’re not smokers either, I am. You notice that kind of thing when you ain’t got no lighter. Yep, just the one match missing. You were a smoker once lady? Gave it up for your voice of course. Smoky enough already huh? Needed to steady your nerves I guess.
Move it Red, that man needs his drink real bad. But you’d know about that huh? I know about that, I can see it all here in front of me, I got brothers too. I knew you’d all come here. Yeah, I know, nothing I can prove. Our friend with the shaky hands wouldn’t lie, not if he wants to keep doing his sermons. He doesn’t look quite right though, out of uniform like that.
Red’s alright, aren’t you Red? Never left the diner, not for a moment. Little Miss Scarlet here, on stage at the club. Everybody saw you, right lady? All illusions, all well done no doubt. I don’t have illusions, not any more. I’ve seen too much. And you know what? I don’t care. I can guess why, but there’s a thousand ‘whys’ out there. Look for a motive? Who don’t got a motive for this? Had it coming? You could say that.
There’s plenty of working stiffs back at the Precinct House would have done the same thing. Not smart enough though, not as smart as you people. One real smart family. The church, the club, the diner… all in the same business when you look at it. All working for the lonely souls. Here you all are then, hiding in plain sight. My Ma was a redhead, you know that? It’s how it I spotted you. Just passing by, long day that one. Wasn’t going to come in, but there you all were, plain as day.
I’ll be on my way when I’ve smoked this thing. Trying to give up too. Hey Red, put the match-book in the trash can out the back will ya? They ain’t going to find it, and if they do? Ah yeah, just another nighthawk that came in for a brew.
Meanwhile, Jake & Dinos the two dimensional art bombing Trivialians congratulated themselves on how well they’d blended in.
My apologies to Edward Hopper.
Imagine we lived in a world that’s all of a sudden devoid of color, but where you’re given the option to have just one object keep its original hue. Which object (and which color) would that be?
Surprise me with something, a colour to bump into as I walk down the monochrome street.
My little Canon Ixus does this. Bit of a gimmick, but it can be fun.
Conduct your Q & A as an informal dialogue and write it down from memory, or compose a story in which this conversation assumes a central role.
As you may know, cats really dont do questions. I find it easier to get them to relax and tell me their story, it’s a useful technique. We dont often get socialites passing through, but I believe this one was heading home from George & Amal’s little shindig in Venice.
I am Fabergé Sapphire Dusky Moonlight. You know what that funny little line above the e means darling? That means class. My cat friends call me Fab I’ve got Papers you know, you’re looking at real breeding here. Look, I’m not really a snob, I’m just a regular mog really. I like to keep in touch with the street folk, one does like to keep it real. You know some of the local toms round here are refreshingly direct. Plus, my people darling…. appalling! Same dinner every night, a girl can get fed up with minced fresh rabbit with vitamin supplement.
You got some chicken? Love chicken! Anything real greasy? It’s good for my fur you know. You wanna photo? That’s going to cost…. you got sausages? I could really go a sausage!
By the way darling, thanks awfully for the soft focus shot. Everyone’s so photoshopped these days, it’s all those instagram filters or whatever. Anyway, a girl does like to feel up to date with these things.
Down by the bins. Fab slumming it in Figeac, France.
This is Cousin Cat, so named because he’s a cousin of Lytton the Kitten. We connect…. he’s the bravest, some might say cheekiest, of the neighbourhood strays. I took this half an hour ago.
Oh man, who you callin’ a stray? I got my place, right here where I’m sitting. Cheeky? What are you saying…. I’m pushy? Listen dude, a cat’s gotta eat. Do I look scared of you man? No way. I aint movin’ from here, I cant see no dish in your hand neither. Still dude, no harm huh? Last night’s chicken was molto bene, you know what I’m saying? Your cooking’s definitely getting better.
It’s nice huh? This sun, good for you, good for me. They wont let me up in the gardens, but I got my spot right here. We agree huh? Life aint so bad.
By the way dude, what we havin’ for dinner?
After a long day at work or school, what are your favorite ways to wind down and decompress?
I’m not working at the moment, so I asked one of the locals.
Yeah man, it dont take long to wind right down. I’ve put in my two hours, prowling, sniffing…. harder than it looks. I have to check everything out, who’s been where, what’s in the bins. Plus there’s the big guy from up the road. I can never tell if he’s just howling me out or if it’s gonna come to claws.
So, then I settle down here. It fits like a glove, I can see the world, absorb a few rays… that’s working too you know. I have to have my Vitamin D. Cant really decompress totally of course. The Italian place across the way closes at 4, might pick up a stray piece of ham. Yep, serrano, tasty and chewy.
So, I hunker down and wait for better times. They happen at 6 when the Old Lady lets me in. Always good though, a snack before dinner. I love that high class ham.
Street cat (not a stray) Figeac, France.
Write a story about yourself from the perspective of an object, thing, animal, or another person. Photographers, artists, poets: show us PERSPECTIVE.
Can I read a cat’s mind? Would I dare to enter that alien and savage universe? What does a cat think of me? A few cats I’ve see along the way.
This dude sees me as a meal ticket. He’s the proprietor of a small restaurant in Fayence, South of France. He works the room, looking for tasty treats, so he’s a good advert for the place. He’s stunningly blue, this photo doesnt do him justice. However, he doesnt have a nice voice…. quite harsh.
This guy just doesnt care about me. A street cat from the Montmartre Cemetery in Paris, he gets fed and he’s got some sunlight.
Easy to read, even with a cat from Japan…. why isnt this door open?
A blog written on the off chance that there are not enough cats on the internet.