The steps of the fluffy creature echoed through the house. The noise his claws made small clicks against the hard wood floor as he clacked into the kitchen in an attempt to follow his owner. The owner, aching with hunger which had not been satisfied since Carl's Jr. last night, was rifling through the wooden cabinets for food. They decided on cereal and grabbed a bowl before bounding to the opposite cabinet for Honey Comb. The bag crinkled under his touch as he opened the fridge for milk. The milk was 2/3rds of the way full but yet the sheer weight of the cold gallon bottle made their hand want to drop. It stayed strong. His hunger increased with every item he grabbed. He swiftly slid open the drawer and grabbed the remaining item from the top of the pile, a single silver spoon. Taking the milk in the same hand as the spoon, he let gravity take over and the weight drop. He padded over to the table and let the four items slip from his hands to the dark surface.
Their steady, determined hands worked to create his breakfast concoction–even though it was already 1:00.
He slid into his seat and unleashed the Avalanche of Honey Comb cereal into his taller than normal squarish navy bowl. They grabbed the milk, perspiration wet his hand as he let the waterfall stream into his cereal.
His spoon dived in and finally, he ate.
YOU ARE READING
Observe
Non-FictionThis is my experience. Every sound, sight, smell, texture, emotion and vibe I feel in a single moment, can bring insight upon the difference between perception and reality. Although perception is extreme, reality is true.
