There are a million cat stories in the naked city . . .
This is mine.
(Hi! It’s the start of Script Frenzy and I haven’t started writing anything yet. Instead, Scout and I had a mini photo session.)
It all started when a dame walked into the bedroom. It always starts with a dame.
“Listen, sweetheart,” I said. “I only work for food. It’s tuna or nada.”
“Food is no object,” she replied, but my attention had been drawn elsewhere.
There was a bird on a nearby branch.
The dame shut the window. Had to appreciate her gumption — it ain’t easy to get my attention back, once lost. “But you know tuna makes you sick,” she said.
It was true. My youth had been spent overindulging in rich foods and now, like an alcoholic’s liver, my stomach was rebelling. It was a hard truth. Hard like a dame’s heart. Hard — like the city.
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