Scene · Writing

Meow

The cats are everywhere. Cats doubled the number of bowls of milk. Balls of yarn were impossible not to step on. Purring was synched in perfect harmony. The eyes follow me with every step. Shades of green and brown shifting side to side with no pause. A large black whip hung from a chair. I began reaching for it and the cats simultaneously hiss, extending there claws. This is my only warning. You look back towards the window you entered, and decide its best not to rob a burglar.

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