The Cat, Elena and The Towel

Today, you can write about whatever you what — but your post must include, in whatever role you see fit, a cat, a bowl of soup, and a beach towel.

The Daily Post

Warning: To all readers, don’t judge this post upon its accuracy or sense-making; for the 1st thing to come to my mind when reading the word ‘Trio’ was Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

It was a hot summer day in the land of Weirdogrounds. Victoria Kit, the black Egyptian Mau cat, was perched on the dewy grass of the Green Hills. She never liked the Summer. Nor did she the sun. But as hard as it was to escape the grip of her loving owner, she managed to take refuge on the—for what ever reason—always cool Green Hills.

Suddenly, a beautiful but sad melody sounded from somewhere not far away:

Oh, the sadness on these hills
Oh, the precious tears
Growing colder by the day
Growing older, and heat fades away
To be punished for no bad deed
To be exiled for being me
Was it my fault? To be made in a none-preservative pot
They left me here, because I wasn’t hot
The humans walked away from me
And now they left me be
I cry my tears
Is it all my fault?
That I want them to eat me

Victoria, annoyed by the sound, walked about the hills looking for its source. And then, a flash of light ran across the grass at Victoria front paws. Unconsciously, she jumped the light, and although she knew it wasn’t physically touchable, she couldn’t resist the urge to catch it. And after a few minutes of jumping, chasing and excited tail wiggling, Victoria hit something with her paw.

Hey, what the sun you cat?”

Victoria looked at the talker questioningly. What the what? She thought.

“You could have spilled me!”

Victoria came close to the talker, and she realized who it was. Well, more precisely, what it was.

It was, The Bawling Bowl.

Victoria toke a few steps away. She wouldn’t want to get mixed with these kind of creepy crawlers.

“You’re a black, orphan and infertile cat. So don’t you even think about looking down at me.” Bawling Bowl said. “I’m Elena, also known as The Bawling Bowl. But you can call me BB.”

Victoria looked at her as if she was a mental defective.

“Yeah, right. You’re a cat, you can’t talk.” BB said. “Sorry.”

Victoria walked to BB, and and patted her mouth with her paw. And shook her head.

“No, I’ll sing Kit. I’ll sing as much as I want. I was left here, to die.”

Victoria smacked the top of her own head with her paw. Elena (Bawling Bowl) was not left to die, she was simply a part of a picnic meal, and she went cold because it’s always cold at Green Hills. So her owners just didn’t eat her, and forgot her, which was shitty. But what can you do. (Most certainly not spend the rest of your life lamenting what could have been.)

“We need a towel. There’s a drop of me on the side of me.”

With Victoria’s piercing vision, she spotted a towel, a beach towel, on the beach. She nodded towards the beach behind the hills.

“What?”

She licked her and ran towards the beach. BB followed.

And they started the quest to find the beach towel.

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