October 29, 2018
"Think of the life of a stray cat or dog and write about that. "
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He walks with a grace, one that could come from generations of royalty or more likely a genetic inheritance. Slow measured steps, each a deliberate footfall, a gait meant for the marble floors of rich palaces, rather than the worn flagstones of the narrow alley. But then life in the concrete jungle, so far removed from his natural habitat that it seems to be a dream more than a memory, is no walk in the park.
He sighs as he sidesteps the litter strewn around, if he could think he would find it ironic the men, the two legged, fur-less, tailless animal, called them dirty while he spewed rubbish everywhere. And those loud monsters with round things beneath them they were even worse, the sounds hurt his sensitive ears and the fumes they left irritated him. But he had adapted, as well as he could.
He had survived and now thrived in this unfriendly place, he knew no other world, years of living in the city had changed there genetic makeup, to enable them to live in the changed world. Hunting for mice was still a passion, and birds were a favourite but in the backstreets lined with garbage bins and scattered rubbish, scavenging for food was the preferred mode for getting the meals. Which was not easy, considering the competition, it was a cat fight.
He had been in one, yesterday, fighting a half a dozen scrawny cats, safeguarding his prize, a half eaten fish; it had been worth the torn ear and the scratches, he thought as he licked himself clean in the warm sun and on a full belly.Finishing his ablutions, he found his spot, a shady spot in the nook of the crumbling wall, one that was reasonably safe and gave him a good view. Settling down, he slipped into a nap, one that would be the norm till it was night and time to hunt again.
He could be a stray cat, far away from his natural habitat, but then it really did not make much of a difference, which jungle one stayed in. Life was a series of hunts and naps.
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Word count - 350
I was so tired that I did not even recall that I had not published it... ☹ ☹ ☹
YOU ARE READING
365 Days- Book I
RandomThis is my collection of writings for the three hundred and sixty five day writing challenge - where one has to write something daily, every day, for one whole year, based on the prompts provided - as part of an exercise to improve creative writing...
