The Cat was smoking my last bit of tobacco when I finally got home.
‘You old bastard!’ I cried. ‘Have you dealt with the mice yet?’
This was the last thing I needed. My client’s story didn’t add up. I felt certain we would lose the case.
It smoked nonchalantly.
‘No,’ it said. ‘Have you?’
‘Me? It’s not my fucking job!’
‘God, you’re so old-fashioned; such an antiquated view of division of labour.’
‘Gimme that!’ I shouted, grabbing the fag from the cat’s overly moist mouth. Snatching the snout jolted the cat. It spluttered into a phlegmy cough. Finally it ceased.
‘You got any food?’ it asked.
A mouse scurried across the floor.
Story from “The Last Thing Anyone Needs Is A Dribbling Crisis (And Other Small Talk)” by Ed Spencer. Coming very, very soon…