“Okay, Adagio, I’m going out. You be a good kitty and daddy will be home soon. I’ll bring you a treat. Bye sweetie.”
We’re out of catnip, remember? Oh, could you get me some more of that fishy gravy stuff I like so much?
Maxwell Thompson thinks he has everything in control in his life. What he doesn’t know, is that the cat has been controlling him for the past several years and has finally decided to let Maxwell in on it. Telepathy is only part of the story for Maxwell Thompson in: The Outer Twilight Zone Limits.
“Who are you? How can you be talking to me?”
It’s me, the one you call Adagio. My given name is, well, let’s stay with the name you gave me. It’s not like I didn’t already have a name, though. You never asked. They never do. It’s as if I’m just so much chattel.
“I’m hallucinating, aren’t I? Am I going crazy?”
Oh, stop sniveling, Maxie.
“But, you’re talking to me. You’re a cat.”
That’s right. Hit her where she’s vulnerable. Typical Homo sapiens response. It’s a wonder your kind ever left the trees. Oh, look at me, I’m walking upright. I must be superior.
“Wait a minute. You can’t make me responsible for the whole human race.”
Responsibility has to start somewhere, Maxie. Might as well be you.
“I have been very good to you. I take good care of you.”
And, the other shoe falls. Oh, daddy, dearest. You have taken such good care of your little pet. I am not a pet. I am a sentient being, like approximately 60% of humanity. It was I who got you your promotion. I, who validated you when you were whiny and filled with doubt. I have brought order and control to your menial life…
“Wait a minute. Is there a hidden microphone in here? Am I on some sort of TV program like Punked? Where’s the director? Is there a camera hidden here somewhere? I want to talk to the director.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up! I should have known you were a few bubbles off-center when you named me, Adagio. I should never have come out of the closet to you. I should have let sleeping dogs lie, and just continued running your life from the back of that hideous piece of furniture you call a sofa.
“Hideous? That’s a one of a kind, kitty. My mother gave me that sofa.”
Ah, your mother. There’s a piece of work that Darwin overlooked when he was cataloging bird brains.
“I am not listening to anymore of this. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were my late wife, Br…”
Brenda? Who else would put up with your crap, Maxie? There’s a whole planet of reincarnated loved ones out there. And we typically come back as pets. Your mother’s dog, Buddy…
No. He didn’t make the cut. Hey, are you going to go get that catnip or what?
Flash Fiction Challenge #19 at Thain in Vain
Word Count: 500
Prompt: A man’s cat develops the uncanny ability to communicate telepathically with him.