Home » fashion » When fashion gives you lemons…write tart fiction

When fashion gives you lemons…write tart fiction

The kittens smiled at me. I tried to ignore them but they were so damned cute, I couldn’t look away. At the same time, they kind of disturbed me. There were just so many of them, twenty maybe more, with that Cheshire Cat grin on their infantile faces.

“Wanna pet one?” she asked.

I shook my head out of its otherworldly daze, “Um, are they…in…space?”

“The Milky Way, I think. Wanna bite of my candy bar?”

A pang ran up my neck as I jerked away from her shoving a half eaten chocolate bar into my face, “Uh, thanks, but no.”

With a shrug of her shoulders she stuffed the rest in her mouth in one sloppy bite, “Your loss, pal.”

She sat inches away from me. I tried to scoot over but there was an elderly man to my left, snoring. How the hell he slept with all of those kittens glaring at us was beyond me.

I felt a rubbing up against my knee. “It looks like this one really likes you,” said the girl.

The outstretched face of a white blue eyed kitten wrapped tightly around her knee as it continued to touch mine. I couldn’t shake the fact that she found shiny, spandex, kitten laden, leggings to begin with much less that she was actually wearing them.

“I guess so,” was all that escaped my mouth, as I held my breath, praying she’d be called in to see the doctor next.

A short and stalky nurse threw the door open, “Melinda Frances!”

The girl was so close to me now, too close. I could feel and smell the heat of her bubble gum breath as she blew a bubble in my ear.

“Melinda…Melinda Frances!”

*pop!*

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me,” the girl barked annoyingly in my reddening face, “I’m coming.”

Music to my ears.

She stood up showcasing the Milky Way galaxy of kittens from her hips to her ankles, most of them looking scared to be on the curves of her body but none of them as scared as I was to be sitting next to her.

Her pointy toed high heeled boots clicked as she walked away, “Catch you on the flip side, Evan.”

I knew I should have covered my name on the doctor office’s questionnaire.

Melinda flipped her long ombré colored hair as the nurse held the door. From a distance she was actually kinda pretty, except for the whole annoying, gum chewing, kitten, boot thing.

“Kevin O’connell?” appeared a much taller and younger nurse holding the door.

“It’s Evan. Evan O’Connell,” I corrected, wiping sweat from the palms of my hands, onto my thighs, as I went to stand.

“Well…Evan,” she said with a gentle smile “The doctor will see you now.”

Suddenly, I preferred the company of stretchy cats to the company of an actual diagnosis.

20140101-222218.jpg

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s