Hey folks, I'm going to a little writer's (support) group Friday of this week and we're all taking a short-short to discuss. I'll post my entry up here to get your responses as well. If you see anything that needs changing or strikes you as false, let me know, 'kay?

--

Cora - 1956

My daddy left for Korea yesterday morning. He got his army clothes out of the hall closet and left on a big silver bus. We went with him to watch the bus leave town. My daddy is a very brave man to leave for the war with Mother and me still at home. He told me that he would miss me and kissed my cheek. I miss him very much.

Sometimes it makes me cry because we can't go for our walks in the woods across the Cheuckahoba River. He would tell me about the trees and the frogs and we watched the sun going down behind our house across the river. Daddy called it the Golden Time, when the sun hid just behind the buildings of Coffeyville but it was still bright enough to see. He said the light touches everything and turns it to gold. Mother didn’t like our woods. She only came a few times. She said they were too dark, and too dangerous. Daddy and I teased her, making owl noises. I ran ahead and hid behind a tree, then jumped out to scare her. She made me promise never to run ahead again.

That night, I opened my window that looked out to the forest over the river and closed my eyes. I felt the wind and smelled the pine trees. Christmas was only 4 months away. I wondered who would put up our Christmas tree if Daddy was still in the war. Daddy used to tickle me with the pine needles that fell from our Christmas tree. I yawned and smiled.

While I was yawning, I felt something on my cheek. Like the pine needle tickle, but lighter. I brushed my cheek with my hand thinking it was a butterfly or a mosquito, but nothing was there. I opened my eyes and the most beautiful cat was sitting on my windowsill. He was staring at me with gorgeous golden eyes peering out of a light brown face.

"What's your name, pretty kitty?" I asked. He showed his teeth so I apologized and called him handsome kitty. "Are you hungry, kitty?" I asked. He yowled, so I went down to the kitchen to get him a bowl of milk.

I tiptoed past Mother’s room and down the stairs, edging past the second stair from the top because it squeaks in the middle, and into the kitchen. I didn’t turn on any lights. The bowls were in the cupboard by the sink and the bottle of milk was in the refrigerator. I pulled a chair from the table to reach my favorite blue bowl. I set it on the ground in front of the refrigerator, and opened the door so I could use the light to see the bowl and not spill the milk.

After pouring the milk, I put the bottle back in the refrigerator and pushed the chair back to the table. Taking my blue bowl in both hands, I started back towards the stairs, but the milk kept trying to slosh over the rim. I had to slow down a lot. It took forever to get back to the stairs and I was so frustrated that I forgot to step on the edge of the squeaky step.

Kreeeeek.

I froze. No lights came on, no doors opened. I crept up the stairs and back to my room and put the bowl of milk on my dresser. The kitty waited until I stepped away, then he leapt from the windowsill to the dresser to drink the cool creamy milk. He made hardly any noise leaping and creeping toward the bowl. I decided to name him Patter because of the little sounds his paws made when he walked.

Patter finished his bowl of milk, then started licking his face and paws. He curled up in the middle of my bed and fell fast asleep. I petted him and brushed him with my hair brush. He nipped me when I tried to brush his tail though, so I left it alone.

My very own sweet kitty Patter, asleep in my bed.

The sunshine on my face woke me the next morning. Patter was still snoring slightly. I petted his face and scratched his belly but he squirmed away.

Just then, Mother knocked on my door to wake me. The sound startled Patter and he climbed over me, jumped from the bed to the dresser then out the open window onto the roof of the porch, growling and hissing all the way. He knocked the blue bowl from my dresser and I heard it break. Mother ran in screeching, "Who's in here? What was that noise? What happened to you?" I looked down and there was a tear in my night dress from under my left arm to my right side under the ribs. The thin pink lines on my skin wept three small drops of blood.

I ran to the window, hoping to see my Patter on the roof of the porch. I found only the shattered remains of a nest and pale blue eggshells crushed by cruel sharp teeth.