Friday, July 16, 2010


George Stevens the Third sat at the threshold of his home. His nose twitched and his body quivered in anticipation. Licking his lips, he assessed the danger of venturing out. The fourteen sets of brightly colored feet would only be problematic for the first few seconds. He knew from experience that his presence was enough to make them scatter. His real concern was Franklin, a.k.a. Frankie. Frankie was a muscle bound bully with quick movements and a white patch over one eye. Last time they met, Frankie had almost killed him. George reached back, unconsciously rubbed his bottom and then straightened his whiskers.

"No," he thought, "I'd better wait a while. That damned cat is always lurking by when feet are present. The sharp cheddar will still be there after the feet have left."

*** One Minute Writer ***

1 comment:

  1. I had to read this twice, but I got it. Really neat change of perspective. Ha ha!!!