Life In Three Easy Parts

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

The birth of kittens has never been so... interesting.


"There's a cat shitting in our yard."

Roomie looked up from her chocolate milk and shoved a piece of cake into her mouth. She mumbled something incoherent in reply, sprinkling the floor with wet nut cake crumbs. I looked down sadly at the glistening globs on the kitchen floor and closed my eyes dramatically.

"Every time I do the dishes I die a little," I whispered.

I opened my eyes at the sound of Roomie's car starting and looked around the empty kitchen, the chocolate milk glass sitting in the sink. Outside, the aforementioned cat was busily scratching the sandy surface of our beautifully unkept dirt and weed garden. I cautiously peered at it. It lifted its head and started mewing like an old fishwife when it spotted me.

I quickly jerked my head back and scrambled towards a hiding place. I exhaled in relief as I found an adequate one and hid behind a window. Several seconds passed as realization as thick as jelly slowly trickled in. A movement below me caught my eye and I glanced down. I yelped when I saw the cat staring up at me through the glass. I gazed at it in wonder, reverence showing in my eyes. This dirty creature had, against all hope and rational speculation, found my hiding place.

"Such a powerful adversary should be kept close," I mused wisely.

I grabbed a handful of cat food and threw it at the animal, which it ate in several big gulps, and threw two more handfuls at it. It chewed with gusto.

"Such joie de vivre!" I trilled loudly and clapped my hands together in childish, and rather retarded, excitement.

It mewed a bit more to have the last word and establish predominance, then crawled under a sink on the patio and took a nap. I watched it breathe softly, its fat belly moving ominously.

"Make sure you're gone by tomorrow," I muttered quietly, hoping the wild beast wouldn't hear me and turned away quickly.


"Buckets, water, towels!" I shrieked loudly and turned to my box.

My cats, those domiciled in my home, sniffed the dusty cardboard critically. I half-heartedly kicked them out of the way and picked it up. The other cat was in the yard, waiting to be let in. I quickly opened the door and dashed out, hugging the box close.

It was in labor. The cat, not the box.

I put down the box in front of it and it stared up at me. I pointed at the cardboard container, which I had eagerly decorated with pictures of assorted flowers and horses, but the cat didn't seem to understand what this meant.

"Look, it is pretty," I said, indicating a picture of a galloping stallion. The cat stupidly stared at my left nostril. I prodded the animal a bit with my foot, careful not to touch its fat belly, and pushed it towards the box.

"Here, make babies in this," I said and watched the animal edge closer. I shrugged apathetically and, the process of childbirth unraveling before me instantly forgotten, went back inside to make myself a welcome cup of coffee. I sipped my coffee and gazed out into the yard. The cat was making a fuss, but there didn't seem to be any kittens plopping down from its vagina. I narrowed my eyes and peered into the box.

"Hey!" I shouted towards the general direction of the living room. "Do newborn kittens look like soggy plums?"


I nodded to myself and turned away. I finished my coffee with trembling hands and went over to sit next to Roomie, who was playing on her new game console.

"Well, I'm sure it's all part of a normal labor," I said with mock cheer. The muffled cries of the cat outside were agitating me. The soggy plum etched indelibly in my mind.

Roomie put down her controller and we stared at the paused game. The frozen image showed an alien being blown apart by a shotgun, the bright blue blood splattering the wall behind it. It was strangely comforting.

"I bet it has worms," I said.


She picked up her controller and resumed her playing. I watched as she stormed through space stations blasting away aliens and tried not to think too much of the perfectly normal soggy plum.



Submitted: April 17, 2008

© Copyright 2020 vasquez. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:


Classy Peach

Oh my god...I'm laughing like crazy ass!! You're funny! And you throw in very potent sentences that set the mood/non-mood of the scene.

Great read!!

old fishwife when it spotted me.
Every time I do the dishes I die a little
put down her controller and we stared at the paused game

Fri, April 18th, 2008 5:58pm


Oh, I just noticed I can reply like this! Thanks again! :)

Fri, April 18th, 2008 1:53pm


Hey, thanks a lot, Classy Peach. I appreciate the comment! :)

Fri, April 18th, 2008 8:36pm

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