Effing Feline, Jailbird

Fart-Fueled Flying Feline, Effing for short, writes the Weekend Writing Warrior posts on Mr. V’s behalf

I, Effing Feline, am a jailbird.

That word makes me hissing mad. I’m not a bird!

Remember last week when I gave up trying to be good and let my true self out to play?  Well, Ed Hoornaert, aka Mr. Valentine, busted me for it. So now I’m forced to behave again.

Today’s snippet continues the opening of Mr. V’s WIP, Alien Contact: Becoming Human. Last week, our mysterious heroine was trapped in a dense forest, on a slab of granite surrounded by thick prickles. A jailbreak is the first test of her worthiness for glory and Destiny.

I leaped up and over the jail wall.  Angry at my escape, a branch spanked my bottom.  I flew for nearly as long as I’d been alive, because the forest floor lay three-point-one meters down.

I uncurled, spread my arms, landed on my feet; for a moment I waited, not knowing what to expect.  Would the ground hold me?  Swallow me?  Spank me?

But nothing happened, because I’d landed perfectly.  Pride blossomed.

Effing Jailbird Feline again.  Be sure to check out the snippets by great weekend writing warriors, who share 8 to 10 sentences each Sunday. Click the link below to join the mob with your writing.

PS — Ed here. I did not put Effing in jail. He had to go to the vet, which meant all of ten minutes in a cat carrier. Talk about overreacting!