They Say Black Cats are Bad Luck... Maybe They're Right?

“They say black cats are an omen, but I think they’re pretty cute.” Jenny was telling Diane as they happened upon one while window shopping. They lived in New York and both lived successful lives; Jenny was a writer and Diane was an advertising specialist for a major television network. They were out getting lunch when they passed by a new, trendy clothing boutique named Franchella’s. They noticed a beautiful white dress in the window, but then Diane jumped when something scurried between her legs. A black cat. “I hate those little things,” she grumbled.

           That was the first appearance this day and definitely not the last. Later on, when Jenny got back to her apartment complex she noticed something odd on the corner of her eye. Another black cat sat perched on the concrete lining that laid smoothly atop the mahogany brick wall. The wall was only about five feet high and protected a beautiful oak tree encased on the opposite side.

           The cat was licking itself clean, but when it noticed Jenny, it stopped. Jenny had paused, too; a moment of shared silence passed between them. As they continued to admire one another, the wind slowly picked up between them. With a small meow from the cat breaking their intimate moment together. Jenny thought nothing of this occurrence and proceeded indoors.

           Meanwhile, Diane had also encountered another black cat. Panicked, she called Jenny. “Jenny! Jenny!” Diane was wailing, “I saw another black cat. And… Oh my God, I am FREAKING out. Fourteen years of bad luck. Jenny… I am going to die.” Diane was absolutely hysterical. Jenny did what she could to reassure her friend, but she was beyond gone; practically incoherent at this point. Finally, Jenny harshly responded, shouting over the loud crying on the other end, “Diane! Just listen…” she then sighed, “come to my house and we can talk more about it, okay? It’s okay. There’s nothing to fear.”

           Since this was Diane’s first-time entering Jenny’s house, it took her some time to find it. Once she did, a great sense of relief washed over her. She buzzed on the pad and was led in without a problem. She went to knock on Jenny’s door with a response from Jenny on the other side, “Come in! It’s open.”

Diane stepped comfortably into Jenny’s small apartment and kept her shoes on. That was when Jenny came out of the bathroom, asking Diane to take her shoes off. Though a bit put-off with Jenny's directness at this rule, Diane does so without complaint.

           The two of them sit down and start talking; “I almost got hit by a taxi on the way here, by the way. I bet that's the curse of the black cats.” Diane said, calmer but still frazzled. “Maybe...” Jenny responds playfully, “Maybe not.” The two just sat in silence for a moment, pondering. Eventually, Jenny jumps up and says, “I’m going to make some tea… Do you want any?”

“Yes, please. That sounds so good right now.” Diane responds, relieved. Jenny makes the tea, adding something special to Diane’s drink. “There you go,” she says; following with, “How is it?”

“Refreshing!” Diane exclaims as she gets up to scan the room. “You have a lot of interesting books,” Diane tells Jenny. “Thanks.” Jenny responds, still sitting. “So, are you calmer?” Jenny asks out of genuine concern. “Much,” Diane replies.

...

           “Woah!” Diane says, suddenly. “What? What’s wrong?” Jenny asks, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next. “I don’t know, guess I got a bit dizzy.” Diane responds. Jenny directs her to sit down and she does. Jenny then goes and grabs Diane a blanket. “Is that better?” Jenny asks. “Yes, much; thank you.” Diane replies, as she drifts in and out of consciousness; falling asleep soon after. When she awakes, she is greeted by Jenny once more. This time, with twenty black cats surrounding Jenny. And Jenny standing in front of a cauldron, speaking gibberish. “Uh…” Diane says audibly.

           Jenny looks up. “Oh, you’re awake. Perfect!” “Mhm… And what’s up with all these cats?” Diane asks suspiciously. “They’re mine.” Jenny replies. “And they’re hungry…”