cat

Game On 2

/ Liz H-H / 14 Comments
Norwegian Forest Cat
Norwegian Forest Cat

Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=OPTION. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  (Link goes active Wed night).

Before she, Esme, lifts the ivory linen that protects the remainder of the morning’s bread from the inquisitive, errant bluebottle fly, before she takes another sip of the water-wine mix that has settled and reached a cool room temperature in the chalice, the ewer now drained and removed by her sole servant, she reaches for the wooden box wherein the cards rest, awaiting activation by her thoughtful consciousness.

Intention precedes intuition to get a true reading.

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Game On

/ Liz H-H / 24 Comments
Norwegian Forest Cat
Norwegian Forest Cat

Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=TABLE. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  (Link goes active Wed night).

She lifts the chalice, pausing for just a moment to allow the aroma to reach toward her, then retreat as its contents settle.

Behind her, standing on the back of the heavy wooden chair where the woman bides her time, the black cat shakes a paw, gazing straight ahead with cold green eyes, then lowers his head to lick and smooth the paw, and finally scrape and sharpen each claw.

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Let’s Get Real 1 and 2

/ Liz H-H / 25 Comments
golden butterfly on purple lilacs

Join us for a weekly blog party in Six Sentence Stories, hosted by Denise and attended by some mighty fine, fun folk. Prompt word=HELP. Read, write and come back for more SIX SENTENCE STORIES.  (Link goes active Wed night).

Let’s Get Real 1

It started out as an uncomfortable late-morning meeting over tea with her aunt, in which Elsa dressed as her mother had always insisted: pressed, pleated skirt; stiff white blouse with a Peter Pan collar; frilly-topped white anklets inside white sandals with slippery soles not meant for running.

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JusJoJan26 Day 30: Cinnamon

/ Liz H-H / 3 Comments
face of a black cat

January 30: CINNAMON. Many Thanks to Tessa K. (Itsa me! Nom de Plume) for today’s prompt, as we take a moment or two each day this month to reflect on words that come from the community. And thanks to Linda G Hill for getting us organized!

I don’t know what they put in the new cat food formula the veterinarian gave me, but it sure had an affect on my old Tuxedo cat, Tolstoy. We’ve been together for about 15 years, and he’s gone from fluffy, with wizard locks beside each ear and a sage, but kittenish expression, to a bony-bummed, splay-legged, swinging belly, rheumy-eyed dreamer who seeks the sun’s warm rays in winter, but loves snuggling at night. We have a lot in common, in our respective old ages.

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Warrant

/ Liz H-H / 17 Comments
Black cat reading a magic book

Sonja gazed around the property at the end of the peaceful neighborhood block: the perfect two-story house with its tiny back porch and wooden rocker, a colorful light shawl draped over an armrest; the tidy garden with its newly planted and wide-spaced blooms; black tuxedo cat half-napping under dense shrubbery hugging the side of the house; four sweetly curved granite steps leading up to a cheerful purple door.

“Purple,” she muttered, looking uneasily at the neighbors peeking out at her from behind lace curtains, noting “Definitely suspicious that the address in question in this sweet little neighborhood has a purple door.”

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