Porphyria’s cat had always been quite concerned about her latest beau. “I don’t care what any of you say,” he told his friends. “I just don’t trust this creep!” One particularly cold, stormy, windy night, his suspicions were proven right. After having lit the fire and gotten comfortable she sat next to Lover Boy. The gorgeous blue~eyed blondie, who had always been the object of his narcissist obsession, fell prey to his sadistic side. The cat was quite stunned. “I can’t believe it!” he gasped helplessly. “That moron’s strangled my beloved owner.”
He gazed at the deranged scene. The lady’s dead body, and her maniacal boyfriend, sat side by side.
The cat couldn’t imagine what to do. His heart was broken. Overwhelmed with disbelief that such a horrid spectacle could possibly be met with such equally intense silence, he trembled helplessly. Amazingly, the fire went on crackling, the clock continued ticking, all was as before.
“Don’t they even know what’s happened?” he pondered. The very air was overwhelmed with complete madness as the killer just sat there, smug in his obsessive selfishness. Smiling, even laughing, he truly knew how to break a cat’s heart.
Here’s yet another attempt at Flash Fiction For the Practical Practitioner
I got the idea to write a story based upon Robert Browning’s poem, “Porphyria’s Lover”
Photo credit goes to Morgue File