THE SKY IS FALLING
I’ve often talked about my two cats in this blog. Hard not to when they are the only creatures I see for days at a time.
And they’re often hanging out on the ledge of my computer as I’m writing.
I know, I know, I need to get out more. But, between writing on my WIP, blogging, twittering, teaching on-line, FaceBooking and linking in, I spend a whole lot of time at my computer.
Anyway, back to the cats. Matt and Cinders are seven years-old now–brothers from the same litter–and like most siblings they are very different in personality.
Cinders is a very sociable, curious, risk-taker who has earned the nickname bratty-cat.
His brother Mattikar (Matt for short) is, to put it kindly, more cautious. Okay Matty-cat has sometimes been called Scaredy-cat because of his fear of new people, loud noises and thunderstorms. He has a propensity to scramble under the bed when any of these situations occur.
If outside when a storm approaches, he scurries toward the house, belly to the concrete, eyes toward heaven, obviously expecting the sky to fall.
Cinders sneers when his brother shows such concern–if I’d allow it, he’d stay outside dancing in the puddles.
Last May, however, Matty had his told-you-so moment.
During one of the rain-storms that occurred during that brief period of time, I was busy at the computer in my bedroom when I heard a swish-bang-splat from the next room.
Expecting it to be the results of Cinder’s less than graceful jumps to the dining table, I hurried in to the living room.
Much to my astonishment, a three-foot square of my ceiling had fallen, Plaster, sheet rock, insulation and lots of water covered the carpet, lamp table and my favorite overstuffed chair.
I called my landlord. “Jim,” I said, “my ceiling just fell in.”
“Crap,” he said, “I’ll be right there.” And he was.
From a writer’s point of view, our dialogue was crisp, to the point and lacking any superfluous verbage.
As we cleaned up the mess, Matt sat under the other lamp table, watching with a very smug–if slightly terrified–look on his face.
Yep. That’s one up for Chicken Little.
Posted on October 13, 2011, in Pets, Seasons, Writing and tagged cats, chicken little, cinders, dialogue, matt, rain, sharon k owen, sharonkowen, siblings, storms, writing. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.