What Cat?

I awoke next to a woman that would eventually become my wife. We’d spent the night dining, drinking and smoking too many cigarettes. I lay on my back contemplating how badly my mouth tasted when I heard her stirring. I said, “I’m going to kill that cat.”

“What cat?” she asked sleepily.

“The one that peed in my mouth.”

We laughed harder than the joke deserved, I think because it broke the morning-after tension. Thirty-nine years later and we still laugh at the memory.


(c) 2016 By David P. Cantrell

 

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