When you asked for a kitten, this wasn’t what you expected was it?
What you had pictured, curled up comfy in your bed, was a little creature. A ball of fluff distinguishable only by a pink nose and intelligent eyes that seemed to know all your secret bottled emotions.
Ok, you acknowledged the odds of an omnipotent kitten existing were probably low. Like 5% maybe that one was out there, maybe 1% you ended up with one? Math was not your strong suit. Your failed high school stats class made sure you knew that…
Now, everyone takes into consideration the faultiness of weather forecasters when they make plans to venture from their couches into the outdoors. If there’s even a “small” chance of rain, maybe they’ll grab an umbrella on their way out, ensure their kids pack a rain jacket on the way to school. But for you? Of course, they’re always outlandishly off.
“Today’s set to be the sunniest day of the year!”
You came home with hypothermia that day, your skin as icey as your soul.
“Expect the heavens to come a’pourin folks!”
Your skin, hailed for being practically translucent, burnt to a crisp. You had forgone sunscreen because of those hack bastards.
It reached the point where you avoided checking at all, convinced you must jinx it. You’d be your own forecaster. God knows you seemed to be better at it. A quick glance out your trusty window and you’d plan according to the mood of the clouds. But this morning? You had sat down with your parents after stuffing your suitcase to the brim and watched the morning news.
“Just an average day today, all! Not gonna make ya sweat outta your skin or freeze your buttocks off!” some caster had laughed heartily at his own joke. You had rolled your eyes and glanced at your father who had just nodded stonily. He was kinda like a statue- if statues forced you to go on trips to see historic churches.
Your mom on the other hand was the human embodiment of bubbles. She was constantly oscillating from task to thought to whim to oooo there’s a butterfly, look! She had bounced onto your dad’s lap,
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon lazy bums!” she sing-songed. She was one of the few people who could chisel a smile into your rock of a father. As he had kissed her, you groaned and dragged your case to the backseat of the car, not keen on watching their sappy love for the millionth time.
However, this seemed forever away to you as your face fogged up the window you were plastered to, mouth so wide open you were sure to be slobbering.
It was raining cats.
From short-haired to long-haired, fresh out of the womb to on their last leg, felines were falling from the heavens. Black, brown, white, siamese, calico, tabby, all were suddenly affected by the Earth’s gravitational pull. Technically speaking, there was no precipitation, so you could give the forecasters that...
Varying pitches and volumes of “mews” and “meows” were muffled by the stopped car, a result of your father forgetting to put his foot onto the acceleration again. His face was the most expressive you probably had and would ever see in your life, but you never looked, BECAUSE IT WAS RAINING CATS.
Your mother, who talked through funerals, was stunned into silence.
Just your average family outing in the middle of some country road, quiet, excepting the noise of very disturbed cats on their descent towards the Earth.
Strangely enough, your initial thought was not even about the absurdity of the situation, rather it was concern. How would they land? What if a baby falls and can’t even see the ground they were hurdling towards?!
This is a normal reaction for a person in shock.
But your concern was for naught, as every single one - and I mean all of them- landed squarely and relievedly on their feet, some hissing as though cursing their bad luck.
As time went on, it was like you kept failing your constitution checks, stuck watching the same process over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over-
A particularly fat tabby started to waddle to the front of the car. As it struggled its way onto the hood, the old Volkswagen moaned, shaking you out of your trance. Naturally from your parents’ spot in the front seats, their attention was caught before to the slow beast’s travel, and they were already watching it, bodies stiff with fear.
Who would’ve thought a domestic animal could cause such uneasiness?
As the tabby plunked himself down, you got a better view of him. In particular, his face seemed to be rimmed by dark lines, like he had his own natural pair of specs. Just as you began to ponder the curiosity of such a trait, he opened his mouth and said,
This seemed to break your mother, who screamed at the top of her lungs, prompting a curse from your father.
Only mildly perturbed by this turn of events, the tomcat politely asked,
“What is this contraption that you are in?”
Of course, now your father saw it fit a time to resume his foot’s position on the gas. The car lurched forward sending the gentlemanly feline flying, and suddenly crushed under the wheels.
Your hands flew to your mouth as you took your turn at screaming.
“ALFRED, ALFRED STOP THE CAR!” your mother frantically pulled on your father,
“AL, YOU’RE GOING TO HIT MORE, STOP!!”
Tears streamed down your face, hysterical, but speechless until you saw a kitten in the middle of the road, your parents distracted by their own arguing. It had the cutest little pink nose and puffed out hair, its fright so evident that it finally broke the last remnants of your shock, leading you to shriek,
Face slamming into the front of your mom’s seat, the car skidded and ground at the abuse on its brakes. The kitten was spared.
Huffing, everyone attempted to catch their breath, cats still falling from the sky and landing here and there.
This time you noticed first the chunky tabby, casually grooming its own blood from its fur.
“Ah I see, so it’s called a car.” he thought out loud.
“Thank you, very satisfying.”
The tomcat then curled in a ball and fell asleep on the warm hood without another word. It was again silent in the car.
Then you heard a bark.