CΩT (Part 22, Scene 2)

… but not really. This entry would basically be the end of CΩT / Omegacat (both titles are correct, if you’re wondering), but not only would it be a very long entry, I’m also not quite done with it. Lotta dialogue to get in order. As such, I’m going to hold it back, as I’m considering working this whole story into something publishable rather than a series of blog posts. So keep an eye out for that! I’ll of course post an update here if that happens. And maybe, just maybe, if you guys yell loudly enough in the comments, I might just post what I have once I’m done with it anyways. Maybe. Show me how invested in the story you are! Throw your desperation at me!! What will Cat find in the forest?

In any case, I won’t leave you empty handed. Here’s a short poem, inspired by a sight I saw whilst walking my mutt:

Prescription bottle

and packing peanuts

strewn about the undergrowth

what strange ritual

happened here?

( ©2017 Sean Dorsey )

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CΩT (Part 22, Scene 1)

I’m back in the woods, back between the towering, living trees, their outstretched arms a welcome departure from the stark shininess of the humans’ city. How could anyone prefer such sterility to the teeming life of the forest? Even as I think this, the feel of the woods I’m within is not as wild as those of my kitten-hood, no doubt a byproduct of their proximity to the human apartments. I guess I’ll just have to go a bit deeper. My body elongates as I pick up speed, zig-zagging through the trees and leaping over the undergrowth that attempts to impede my movement in vain. Startled birds scatter from their perches at my passing, but these tempting little morsels are unnecessary after my meal made of the delicious water-dweller, the strong taste of which is still upon my tongue. I pause once I’ve passed far enough into the wilderness for my liking and look around. Though I can sense activity, much of it is either subdued or far away. Nothing much happens during the day anyhow, so I decide to take a nap ’til nighttime. I pick a tree and scale it until I find a spot suitable for slumber. Locking my claws into the tree-skin, I close my eyes, wrap my tail ‘round myself, and it’s not long before I pass into sleep.

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