Last year, when the cat announced to the family that she had written and submitted a short story for the National Flash Fiction Association Prize, my Grandmother spat a brussel sprout directly at Uncle Edward’s nose and bounced it into the gravy.
The rest of us just nodded and carried on with lunch.
When Grandmother pointed out that the cat had spoken and asked ‘Is that quite normal?’ we shrugged.
There wasn’t much that was normal about our family so a talking cat seemed about right in the scope of things.
PHOTO PROMPT – © Scott L. Vannatter