Lana and Tommy…very short story

Why, do you insist on washing your hands?  Have you learned nothing, over the years?”

“I’ve told you a million times, I can’t just lick my hands,” sighed Lana.

“You have hands, you have a tongue, what IS the problem?”

“The problem is that you are a cat and I am not.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you can’t just lick your hands and if you would grow a tail you wouldn’t fall down so often.”

“I don’t fall down that often and if I grew a tail I would have to have all of my clothes altered.”

“If your species would have kept their fur you wouldn’t need clothing to begin with. But no, you had to get rid of all the important things so that you could freeze, be too hot, fall down, and be unable to clean yourself.  You call that progress?  You can’t climb a tree properly and you can’t walk on a railing or fence top.”

“Ha, you cant always get down, after you climb a tree.”

“That only happened once!”

“I had to get a ladder and carry you to the ground.”

“Thank you for that, by the way.”

Lana picked up the cat and kissed his neck.  “I love you but you have to realize that we are different.  You aren’t supposed to be able to talk, you know.”

“What?  Do you expect me to meow and mew like all the other cats?  Please, they can all talk, they just give you humans what you want.  It’s also a way to ignore all of you whenever we feel like doing so, which is all the time, by the way.  And not all of you did lose your fur.  I saw a guy on the beach…,”

“Well, some of us evolve slower than others,” said Lana firmly.  “What would you like for dinner?”

“Uh, I ate out.”

“Tommy, you better not have eaten a bird or a mouse!”

“I’m a cat,” he said, flicking his tail and unsheathing his claws.  “I’m the best killing machine on the planet…well except for humans, I mean.  I kill one at a time but you just blow things up and poison each other”

“You can have as much food as you can eat, right here.”

“We’ve had this discussion before.  I’M A CAT.  Cat’s kill.  It’s our thing.  It’s what we do.  At least I stopped bringing them home as gifts.  That really hurt you know.  I thought I was being nice and all you did was dig graves and feel bad.  You’re a speciesest.”

“A what?  A speciesest?  That’s not a real word.”

“It means you can’t accept me as I am,”

“That is so not true and you know it.  You live with me, sleep on my bed…”

“I’ve heard it all before but the fact remains that you could lick your hands if you wanted to.”

“You’re right,” said Lana.  “I could lick my hands but my tongue isn’t rough like yours.  I wouldn’t get my hands clean.”

“Oh.” said Tommy.  “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?  I mean I know your kind are inferior in every way, but I didn’t even consider your defective tongues.”

“Well now you know.”

“So, wash your hands and then get the stick with the feather on a string, so we can play for awhile.”




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2 Responses to Lana and Tommy…very short story

  1. nkdwhtguy says:

    Cute story. I enjoyed reading this.

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