It’s Friday, and that’s Flash Fiction Day. But I decided to go one better, and do a story for you that incorporated the title of a new blog hop, hosted by Stuck in Books, on the theme of luck. After you’ve read it (it’s only c500 words today) there’s a rafflecopter to win a book of your choice from Book Depository up to the value of $15 including postage (and Book Depository posts free to a lot of countries).
So, something on the theme of Luck. Given this is sandwiched between the two Friday 13th posts, maybe I could do something with that black cat.
Lucky is Reading
Lucky saw the woman next door dash out of her house. She abhorred him, and the feeling was mutual. Lucky sauntered to the gate and paused, waiting for the moment of maximum effect.
Now! He shot across the driveway, flicking his tail out of the way of the racing wheels, and enjoyed the effect of the screech of brakes, spray of gravel and squeal of the tyres as she pulled out into the country lane and sped off toward the town. Another two toes to the goddess of cats and the fates which had brought such an unyielding neighbour into his life. He found a nice soft spot in the her garden to do his business and scratched the evidence over. Some buried plants came up with his claws and he scattered them around liberally. He often wondered why people put these round things in the earth. Best got rid of, he thought.
Sounds from his own kitchen suggested breakfast might be forthcoming if he rubbed her legs enough.
“Lucky! There you are my wee darling. Have we been out for a nice morning stroll, then?”
“No,” he mewed plaintively, “but I have been out for a successful raid on the farmer’s chickens. He’ll think the fox got in, as usual.”
“Ah, you poor darling. It’s still too cold for roaming the moors.”
“Well, only a little. You keep this house suitably warm, though,” he replied, leaping from the chair onto the dresser. She was dishing out his salmon mix, he was pleased to note, so he jumped down to take his place at his feeding station.
“What a good cat you are. Here’s breakfast. Yummy salmon!”
Yummy salmon indeed, thought Lucky, polishing it off. Slavery is an excellent institution.
His slave took a mug of tea and settled herself in the easy chair by the fire. Lucky sauntered over, stationed himself in front of it and commenced a grooming session in the warmth. The clock in the corner ticked the seconds away, the casement echoing gently as it started to whirr towards the hour.
“I must remember to go into the village later.” These one-sided conversations assisted his slave’s memory recall. “I shall get you some more food and put in our lottery numbers. What shall we pick today?”
Lucky jumped up onto her lap, squashing the newspaper and creasing her crossword into the folds of her body. He thrust his face forward and was rewarded with an ear rub.
“Are you going to pick the numbers, then? Here you are.” She pulled over a simple calendar from a side table and held it at an angle to him. Lucky proceeded to tap some numbers at random. His slave wrote them down. “Two, eighteen, six, two again, you’ll have to draw another, you know… thirty, seventeen, thirty. You silly, that’s an extra two and an extra thirty. Shall I put down thirty-two? Is that it?”
Lucky jumped down and proceeded to wash his tail. As far as he was concerned it was job done.
The EuroMillions draw that night selected the numbers 2, 6, 17, 18, 30 and 32. Such a shame his slave had entered them in the UK Lotto. What more could a cat do?
(c) J M Pett 2015
And here’s the linky, so go hopping!