Goldfish: A Short story, Results For Monday’s Muse May 25th and March 30th

(To see the original post for this prompt please click HERE.)

GOLDFISH

He pulled back from the window, nearly falling over his chair, praying that they had not seen him. The mangy cat that he had claimed as his own, along with the attic room, mewed loudly as she did anytime she heard strangers coming. Otherwise, Goldfish stayed completely silent.

1387610758yfg89Pulling a long, dirty finger up to his trembling lips, Huntley shushed the contrary cat to no avail, his heart sinking into his boots, and his skin growing cold with fear once the sound of the rattling cart outside came to a stop.

They had come to a stop.

He heard muffled voices just outside and mumbled a quick prayer to heaven before mouthing, “Thanks a lot, Goldfish!”Only for Goldfish to casually lick a paw and saunter down the narrow flight of attic stairs, mewing the entire way.

Certain that the Traders had heard Goldfish, Huntley slid off his boots, careful not to make another sound. He chanced another peek out the window, watching the filthy heads of the Traders ascend the rickety front porch.

He covered his mouth at the sound of crackling wood and curses. One of them had stepped right through the old wooden planks.

Laughter rose upward not long after before the front door was gently pushed open. The Traders knew better than to go into any place, guns blazing, that was unless they wanted to stir confusion, catch their prey by means of fear tactics.

Goldfish’s strangled call followed by her all impressive hairball hack and release, echoed through the floor boards. Huntley smiled, and sent up several thank-you-God’s when the heavy foot falls of the Traders came to a halt again along with more cursing prompted by utter disgust.

Confident the putrid smell of Goldfish’s giftings had hit her target along with the unspoken message that no human would live in such a vile decrepit place with a cat that looked like walking death, Huntley chanced a smile. Goldfish had marked the lower two levels of the house with her hairy gifts, but had left the attic clean just for Huntley. At least Huntley liked to think so. He did feed her after all.

Nervous sweat still pricked his skin as the sound of the Traders leaving out the front door and carting away grew fainter.

A sudden startled yelp escaped his throat only to be calmed by a pleased mew and a raggedy cat he could have sworn was smiling as she rubbed against his legs.

THE END

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