(Previously, Cora kind of regretted not getting her project sent off in time, but the coffee was good. Today, the fireworks are the least of Lucy and Daniel’s problems. And, Alvin, the cat bites the dust. As promised in the title.)
Today’s gratuitous photo is a lonely child’s shoe. Sometimes, I feel a deep sense of joy in knowing that I’m not a shoe.)
Alvin screeched and shot straight up into the air, fur standing on end, claws tearing at the air and, oh, that awful cat-terror screech. This had a domino effect. Lucy poured half a cup of green tea onto her white blouse and Daniel’s lighter missed his cigarette enough to set his mustache of fire. The walls of the Mueller home resounded with screeches of terror and pain.
Outside the huge Mueller living room picture window, the sky exploded with color. A burst of glittering red showered the sky with scarlet comets that in turn burst into a shower of smaller comets. Behind the red, a golden mushroom exploded into the sky with an ear-shattering BOOM. Not three seconds after Alvin landed on the floor, he was clawing up Lucy’s tea sodden white blouse leaving a trail of blood spots where his claws tore through the blouse and into Lucy’s skin. Lucy shrieked. Alvin crouched on top of her head, claws digging into her forehead causing tiny rivulets of blood to stream down over her eyebrows. Seven feet away, Daniel slapped his face vigorously, trying to put out the flame in his mustache.
Half an hour later, Lucy and Daniel sat in their cozy arm chairs fuming. The bandages on Lucy’s forehead showed signs of blood spotting. The left side of Daniel’s upper lip glistened with salve. Alvin crouched in a corner of the room, glaring at life.
“I don’t understand what they get out of it,”said Daniel, both arms prone on the arms of the chair. “They send a bunch of colored lights into the sky and make a lot of ungodly noise.”
“It’s what they do here and it’s a…a nuisance,” said Lucy, both arms wrapped around her chest, as though hunkering down for an attack. “A damn nuisance.”
“They pollute the air with chemicals and noise,” said Daniel indignantly. “Waste of time and money.”
“And they do it every year.”
“All that noise.”
“And it can’t be good for children’s eyes.”
“And their necks…all that looking up…straining the muscles.”
“And the noise. Poor Alvin.” Though, there was a trace of insincerity in Lucy’s voice as she tightened her grip around her chest, still in pain from the clawing from Alvin.
“We may have to get help for Alvin.” Daniel looked at Alvin, eyes fomenting sympathy. “I’ve heard that traumatic episodes like this can scar animals for life.”
“And think of all the children…all those poor children waking up horrified from their sleep to the sound of that thunder. I don’t even want to think about what it does to infants.”
“Thank God it’s just once a year.”
“It shouldn’t even be once a year. Maybe once every hundred years.”
“On a desert island.”
“Far away from here.”
“Far away from the children.”
“And the infants.”
“And Alvin.” Daniel cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes.
“What is it, dear?” said Lucy.
“I’m not sure, my dear. Did you hear something?”
“I don’t think so…” Lucy suddenly squinted her eyes. “I think…”
Alvin thrust his head up. His eyes widened into white circles.
“I think they’ve gone a bit far this time,” said Daniel’s mouth as it rocketed away from his head.
“The nerve of those…” said Lucy as her words evaporated into the rush of fire.
“What the fuck now?” thought Alvin in whatever language cats thought in as they turned into nuclear steam.
For more crazy writing by Biff Mitchel, visit Amazon.