Mistaken Identity
March 24th 2011 21:00
Recently, my ex-neighbour invited me to her place for lunch. She made gooey egg sandwiches and toast. I had had a bad day, so I spent the time moaning and groaning to her. I was so wrapped up in my own problems I forgot all about the fact she had a cat.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was one of her neighbours wanting to borrow something from her. I then remembered Miggins. I went out on the balcony, in search of my four-legged friend.
He looked at me with his golden cat eyes, the pupils limited to tiny slits. I reached down to stroke his fur and whispered, “Hello. Hello, Butterscotch. Hello, Butterscotch.” I then stopped. Did I just call him Butterscotch? I must be going mad. “Hello, Miggins,” I corrected. I then realised how much I miss Butterscotch and Gingersnap. I have not seen them for about three months now. Oh, Brett, please hurry up and find a new place to rent and make sure it’s within walking distance of my place.
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