Seven eleven
Jane Nash: Micro-Story ‘Seven eleven’
“That cat!” Shouted the bald assistant behind the counter. He came out from behind it, flapping a rolled up newspaper towards the cat. It was as comical as ineffective. The cat strode further into the shop following a pair of red high-heeled shoes. A new purchase – widows should always wear red once mourning is spent,
Purring and chirping, the stray Maine Coon, who was almost the size of a medium dog, made its way to a large glass counter warmer which displayed cooked meat pies for sale..
The red shoes clicked over to the assistant “Like my late husband, Monty” she said, “always loved his pies.” The tom cat turned his head and when their eyes met, it winked at her. Not a random wink but a slow, serious one. Just like Monty used to when he was being rebellious or naughty.
“Has he got a name?” She couldn’t resist stroking this magnificent cat who returned the affection by weaving through her sheer-stockinged legs, brushing against her before returning to stare at the pies.
Losing a husband may seem careless but the lack of Monty now afforded her new, fashionable clothes, holidays with friends and an unrestricted diet. She was thinking about a pet, never having been allowed one.
“I don’t care what it’s called! I want it out of here!”
“I’d like to buy a pie. A cold one from the back please. Yesterday’s.”
On the pavement a huge Maine Coon tom cat held her gravied, manicured fingers between his paws and licked the soft skin clean with his rough tongue.
Does she believe in reincarnation? She doesn’t know nor does she care. She picks up a very large cat who is cleaning his whiskers and makes her way to a pet store.
A collar, harness, lead and a name-tag later, she has her pet and the name…? Guess!
