Tuesday, 12 March 2013

First Fiction Segment

Non-Fiction segment to start - Missed a day, so you will get two half page stories as one post today. Sorry about that. Won't happen again.

First Fiction segment,

I couldn't breathe. There was something that was making it impossible to breathe. Was I drowning? I didn't feel wet. Do you have to feel wet when you are drowning? Does that matter? I can't think.

I couldn't think because I couldn't breathe. How long had I not been breathing. Was I living my whole life not breathing? Or was this a recent event. Was I going to die from it? Am I dying?

I wasn't dying, but I couldn't even remotely take a breath. What the fuck was going on? I wasn't wet. Was someone strangling me? How could I hope to figure that out? Wouldn't that be obvious? Well, so would drowning wouldn't it? I hadn't noticed either.

How long can you live without breathing? In the most rigid definition of breathing, it would be minutes right? But this had been hours right? Hours. Not one breath. What the fuck was happening?

Ah, it all makes sense now.

I was having the best sex of my life.

Second Fiction Segment.

Second Fiction Segment.

There was a cat that died the other day, and I got to thinking...are there more cats than humans? If there are, do they die more often since they have shorter life spans. So why should I care so much about this one dying, isn't that just a flaw in my perspective?

Three cats have probably died while I thought that. it's a sad, dark, truth. And yet I'm still crying over this one cat! How dare I? It's just a cat, it didn't really do anything unless I projected what I wanted it's actions to mean on to it.

It was a thing. It sat around, it drank water, it ate food, it lazed around and whined. A lot.

God dammit. I know why I'm upset.

I'm a fucking cat.