My Silence
about not speaking
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 Category:  Romance Flash Fiction
  Posted: October 24, 2018      Views: 99

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Faceless yet voidless, with no form that can ever stop trying to grow. Some may call this survival instinct viral, or parasitic. Yet it is the only way to keep moving on . . .

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Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
Not yet exceptional. When the exceptional rating is reached this is highlighted
An angry girl wants to humiliate her sister.
"Pretend Romance" by Lance Polin

Anna had finally had enough. Enough of men! Enough of these pathetic pretend romances! God, how she hated all of them!

But her sister's wedding was approaching and she had told Karen that she had a date. For some reason this was important to her, like she would be embarrassed if her little sister showed up stag, Anna hated her sister too. She wanted to humiliate her and did not care if she embarrassed herself.

The only living creature that Anna loved was her sick, fat cat, aged seventeen, named Creator. Creator fulfilled everything one expects from a cat: He was arrogant. He was lazy. He slept all day and ate too much. He had also been dying of FIV--cat AIDS!--for more than fifteen years, when she found him as a stray.

Anna took Creator to the wedding. Both got sick. She never spoke to her sister again.

Wedding and a Cat? Flash Fiction writing prompt entry

Writing Prompt
Write a 150 word flash fiction story that in some way incorporates both a wedding and a cat. The extent to which each of these is a part of your story is up to you, but at the very least, each must be mentioned in your story. Any genre is acceptable.

Author Notes
The author once had a cat actually named Creator, who was not fat, but everything else is true. He was a stray that this author saw begging at her/his door. Creator was given a can of tuna. Now s/he had a cat. S/he at the time lived in the gatehouse of a cemetery, with her/his boyfriend/girlfriend. When that relationship ended, s/he stayed in the cemetery and met this new friend. Creator used to bring her/him dead birds and sit there purring, truly appreciating his new home. "Fuck that asshole/bitch," Creator seemed to be meowing. I am much better than him/her. Let's stay together forever.

When Creator finally died (of some horrible disease he could no longer fight off, cat AIDS and all), he went outside to die underneath a deck chair. When I went out to check on him and cry, he was still alive. This was the only time he ever hissed at me.
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