The Odd One Out
Updated: Feb 6
Written by guest author M. McKinnon.
You wouldn’t recognise me if you saw me, I’m that kind of guy.
I’m not sleek like the Nile.
I’m not fluffy like those Pampered Ones up at the palace – not that I would ever dream of saying so to their faces. There’s just something about several hundred pounds of muscle and fangs as long as my tail that keeps me from arguing. That’s for foolish youngsters with all their lives left.
I’m not so lucky. I only have one.
No. I didn’t lose them. I was born that way. You never heard of a one-life cat? Well, that’s me – in the flesh, or the fur if you prefer.
All my siblings were perfectly normal cats who went on to have kittens of their own. I might even have some long lost relatives out there.
Me? I was the slow one – always the last to learn anything or go anywhere. And after the priestesses of Bast at the temple told mother I only had one life, even that stopped. I don’t hold it against her. She meant it for the best, but I was suffocating and so, I ran away.
I like my independence, what can I say? What did you expect? I’m a C. A. T.
It took time to learn how to survive on my own. Back then it was like struggling against this grey unmovable mass, but over the years it became easier. I would even say I have far surpassed any of my brethren of the day. Experience counts for a lot, when you’re a one-lifed cat.
My fellow felines are much the same as they were then. Some even still roam the ruins where the temples used to stand along the river, fur as sleek and slick as ever, biding their time until, once again, they will be worshipped as godlings. Stubborn, cats are.
But not me. I moved on.
The reason I never had more than one life was because the Universe, in its infinite wisdom, knew I would never need the others.
Time. Time is what I’ve always had.
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