Writing practice : a short-story
Milo hungrily accepts round two of breakfast. His feline tongue grateful for my intervention in the banquet. Human fingers stacking up the biscuits. Biscuits that have by now soaked up the remaining soup, all the tastier for it. Easier for a discerning nose to choose between, meandering over each small mountain peak ranging left to right across his bowl.
I return to my phone. What to write down? What to let drift by? Attention flitting between racing thoughts but so many choices: and quite different themes in mind.
Round three of breakfast. Upon the sofa now. Brushed and primed, a black tail and white socked legs take on balancing duties as he tucks in – a little more noisily this time. I acknowledge the thanks with a backhanded stroke across his back. My gaze not leaving the iPhone now back in handheld mode. His eyes not leaving his bowl, until in contented cat mode, he is away to clean his face. Leaving me free to spread out my thoughts.
I unfold my iPhone to iPad mode. The vertical hinge flattens out, as would a paper fold. I double up again, this time a horizontal fold to settle down. Four times the screen, one quarter the thickness. That will do me for now. The next two unfolds would be sixteen times that first screen, but as thin as a paper map. No need to go that far, not whilst I’m still reading from my lap.
5 Year lockdown anniversary – 13th March 2025 – hopefully a near future fiction