The King of the Meowcats had never met Wassily Wassileyevich Kandinsky, but he was quite convinced that he’d want to.

If it were possible.

It was the latest addition to his list of things that he could do.

The decision making process was time consuming.

He wanted to be absolutely certain that he was taking the best course of action available to him.

Being a thorough cat, (and a responsible leader of his people) he had decided that documentation was the way forward.

The King of the Meowcats called upon his scribes, and started dictating a list of all the possibilities he saw laid before him.

He never did meet Mr Kandinsky.

There’s something very special about cats. There’s magic in their tails. And their tales tend to include magic. More than any other animal, they give the impression of knowing something we don’t. They are good at an air of superiority. Despite their baser animal instincts.

They are playful creatures, but seem to take even their play with a level of seriousness.

The cat batting at a shadow looks more like it’s training its hunting skills than a dog when it chases a stick.

Or maybe that’s just me.

I find it easy to imagine a cat hierarchy. Cat principalities and cat nobility.

I also imagine that if there were one, all the cats would believe themselves to be part of it.

And I imagine a cat enjoys making plans to do thing almost as much as it enjoys doing those things.

All that time resting in the warm spot (or the cool spot, when necessary) must be occupied with some grand thoughts.


Meowcat sat.

Her tail batted slowly from side to side. Idly exploring the air behind her.

Meowcat thought. But it kept it’s thoughts wrapped up.

That was her way.

She thought, and she listened.

And she thought about what she heard.

And she was not happy.

But she couldn’t do much about it.

So she sat.

And thought.

And swished her tale about.


Lucy thinks she is a cat sometimes.

Occasionally I can’t tell if she’s right or not.

But I don’t tell her that.

I think it would go to her head.

And she’d start thinking she could do magic with her tail.

Come to think of it, it’s a good thing she doesn’t have a tail.




Image by Lucy.

‘Illustration’ by Alex.

About Alabaster Crippens

Joiner of Dots. Player of Games. Unreliable Narrator. Dancing Fool.
This entry was posted in Inverse. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Lucy

  1. Pingback: Some Drawings form July and August | Duck and Rabbit

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