captaincrumpets
New Member
I had to write a story for my coursework XD. This is apparently centered on the theme on metamorphosis... Only... No.
--
Outside, it was inconceivably dark. I didn’t honestly know it could get so dark. If I tried to accurately describe just the staggering level of darkness, I don’t think an entire book would do it justice. I assume the streetlights were broken or the residents, comfortably settled in their neat little homes, had turned in for the night; leaving no artificial light to aid the moon, which had hidden itself behind a thick cover of clouds. With a weary sigh, I got up from my seat by the window and decided it would be desirable to turn on a lamp, just a small one, to make myself feel less enveloped by blackness. Then, perhaps, I would find it easier to sleep.
The following morning, the light from outside seemed so much more unforgiving when compared to the previous night. It stung my eyes and, consequently, started to make me feel somewhat nauseous and dizzy. Before I could even consider the possibility of getting myself out of the house, I’d have to close the curtains. This turned out to be much harder than I’d anticipated, as I was squinting so much that everything was heavily blurred and I was feeling so unsteady that I had to keep one hand on the window-frame to avoid falling flat on my back. Eventually I managed to cover the sunlight with the slightly out-of-date floral print fabric.
Now that the room was dim enough for me to actually function, I managed to quickly dress myself in the first clothes that caught my eye. Looking at the shirt, I made an expression of distaste to myself. It had some sort of unsavoury stain on the breast pocket, a little beige-ish coloured thing, most likely coffee. As you do, I curiously bought the affected area to my nose to try and properly determine what it might be, but was taken aback by just how strong the scent of coffee was. It, like the sunlight, was nauseating. The way today was going, I was considering seriously just going back to bed in an effort to ignore how downright unfair everything seemed to be. It was almost as if the day’s small details, the parts that were usually just minor inconveniences, had decided that today they’d gang up on me to see if they could make me crack. And I have to admit, it was definitely working.
Then, just to make everything that bit more aggravating, my phone started ringing from downstairs. The usual, dull and slightly annoying beeping sound was intensified, just like the sunlight, the smell of coffee and the darkness outside the night before. The loud beep finally died, leaving just silence and me with a seriously uncomfortable headache. Grumbling, I dragged myself down the stairs to eat something and try to forget about my day’s depressing start.
I stood over my kitchen counter, arms resting lazily on the cold granite worktop. My cat watched me with interest, probably looking for food or affection, which I didn’t really have the energy or patience to give at that moment in time. A pleading meow came from behind me, the already overweight tabby cat refusing to give up on breakfast so easily.
‘Go away Dennis.’ I spoke as if I expected a reply from him, but he just stared at me with his big green eyes, unfazed. As I turned away to clumsily put some bread into my aging toaster, another meow, this time more urgent, came from the hungry cat. ‘Dennis, I said go away. You can wait until I’ve eaten.’ Obviously, he had no idea what I was saying, so he instead took my annoyance as an invitation to jump up onto the side next to me and rub his head affectionately on my arm. ‘Dennis, for Christ’s sake I said no.’ I swear to god I never meant to push him as hard as I did. I intended to unsettle him slightly so he’d jump down onto the floor and wait until I was ready to give him something to eat. He scrambled frantically to land on his feet and made a painful thud as he landed, before giving an aggressive hiss in my direction and skulking off to do whatever it is cats do. I looked on guiltily after him, shifting my glance only when his striped tail had swished around the corner of the door, in a way that suggested he was angry with me. Though that’s ridiculous... Cats don’t get angry.
My toast was burnt and tasted absolutely foul. Dennis’ antics had meant I’d left it in the toaster for too long; just another thing to ruin my morning. I glanced over at the clock and realised I was now late for work by about 10 minutes. I wish I knew what came over me, but I honestly have no idea... I sort of snapped at that point, annoyed with everything. A person can only take so much in such a short space of time, and I’d definitely reached my limit. Dennis had just re-entered the kitchen, no doubt to, in his own feline way, offer me some sort of forgiveness, but he stopped at the door, watching with a perplexed look on his little whiskered face as I threw things, kicked things and generally trashed the kitchen.
I didn’t care for the cat’s opinion right now, and he was lucky he couldn’t actually tell me verbally what he was thinking, or he’d probably be on the receiving end of my irritation too. He just stood, staring in silence, aware that now wasn’t a good time. I’d worn myself out a fair deal, and just slumped against the cupboard, looking at the results of my childish tantrum. Dennis took a step into the room, his ears pricked and alert as he tested whether or not I was ready for his company. I looked up and sighed. Dennis hadn’t done anything wrong, and I saw no reason why I shouldn’t grant him entry to what remained of my kitchen. He finally walked up and sat firmly on my lap, purring. I knew he wanted food again, it’s the only time he’s ever affectionate, but when I summoned the motivation to get him a bowl, he continued sitting there. I looked over at the foul smelling chunks of cat food, wrinkling my nose as Dennis simply ignored it.
On that thought, I decided it was time I got myself out the door to work, so I tactfully removed the cat from my lap and stood up, looking back at the now disorganised and filthy kitchen. Dennis stood alert among the assorted kinds of food and cutlery, the broken china and the door from my cupboard, which had somehow been torn from its hinges during what can only be described as a momentary lapse of sanity. His food remained untouched near where I was sat, and was still untouched when I arrived home from work, whilst Dennis was sat waiting for me by the front door, probably hungry. His food was there, so what on earth was the silly fat animal waiting for? To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’ll ever really understand how his head works, but perhaps he’s much smarter than I give him credit for.
--
Outside, it was inconceivably dark. I didn’t honestly know it could get so dark. If I tried to accurately describe just the staggering level of darkness, I don’t think an entire book would do it justice. I assume the streetlights were broken or the residents, comfortably settled in their neat little homes, had turned in for the night; leaving no artificial light to aid the moon, which had hidden itself behind a thick cover of clouds. With a weary sigh, I got up from my seat by the window and decided it would be desirable to turn on a lamp, just a small one, to make myself feel less enveloped by blackness. Then, perhaps, I would find it easier to sleep.
The following morning, the light from outside seemed so much more unforgiving when compared to the previous night. It stung my eyes and, consequently, started to make me feel somewhat nauseous and dizzy. Before I could even consider the possibility of getting myself out of the house, I’d have to close the curtains. This turned out to be much harder than I’d anticipated, as I was squinting so much that everything was heavily blurred and I was feeling so unsteady that I had to keep one hand on the window-frame to avoid falling flat on my back. Eventually I managed to cover the sunlight with the slightly out-of-date floral print fabric.
Now that the room was dim enough for me to actually function, I managed to quickly dress myself in the first clothes that caught my eye. Looking at the shirt, I made an expression of distaste to myself. It had some sort of unsavoury stain on the breast pocket, a little beige-ish coloured thing, most likely coffee. As you do, I curiously bought the affected area to my nose to try and properly determine what it might be, but was taken aback by just how strong the scent of coffee was. It, like the sunlight, was nauseating. The way today was going, I was considering seriously just going back to bed in an effort to ignore how downright unfair everything seemed to be. It was almost as if the day’s small details, the parts that were usually just minor inconveniences, had decided that today they’d gang up on me to see if they could make me crack. And I have to admit, it was definitely working.
Then, just to make everything that bit more aggravating, my phone started ringing from downstairs. The usual, dull and slightly annoying beeping sound was intensified, just like the sunlight, the smell of coffee and the darkness outside the night before. The loud beep finally died, leaving just silence and me with a seriously uncomfortable headache. Grumbling, I dragged myself down the stairs to eat something and try to forget about my day’s depressing start.
I stood over my kitchen counter, arms resting lazily on the cold granite worktop. My cat watched me with interest, probably looking for food or affection, which I didn’t really have the energy or patience to give at that moment in time. A pleading meow came from behind me, the already overweight tabby cat refusing to give up on breakfast so easily.
‘Go away Dennis.’ I spoke as if I expected a reply from him, but he just stared at me with his big green eyes, unfazed. As I turned away to clumsily put some bread into my aging toaster, another meow, this time more urgent, came from the hungry cat. ‘Dennis, I said go away. You can wait until I’ve eaten.’ Obviously, he had no idea what I was saying, so he instead took my annoyance as an invitation to jump up onto the side next to me and rub his head affectionately on my arm. ‘Dennis, for Christ’s sake I said no.’ I swear to god I never meant to push him as hard as I did. I intended to unsettle him slightly so he’d jump down onto the floor and wait until I was ready to give him something to eat. He scrambled frantically to land on his feet and made a painful thud as he landed, before giving an aggressive hiss in my direction and skulking off to do whatever it is cats do. I looked on guiltily after him, shifting my glance only when his striped tail had swished around the corner of the door, in a way that suggested he was angry with me. Though that’s ridiculous... Cats don’t get angry.
My toast was burnt and tasted absolutely foul. Dennis’ antics had meant I’d left it in the toaster for too long; just another thing to ruin my morning. I glanced over at the clock and realised I was now late for work by about 10 minutes. I wish I knew what came over me, but I honestly have no idea... I sort of snapped at that point, annoyed with everything. A person can only take so much in such a short space of time, and I’d definitely reached my limit. Dennis had just re-entered the kitchen, no doubt to, in his own feline way, offer me some sort of forgiveness, but he stopped at the door, watching with a perplexed look on his little whiskered face as I threw things, kicked things and generally trashed the kitchen.
I didn’t care for the cat’s opinion right now, and he was lucky he couldn’t actually tell me verbally what he was thinking, or he’d probably be on the receiving end of my irritation too. He just stood, staring in silence, aware that now wasn’t a good time. I’d worn myself out a fair deal, and just slumped against the cupboard, looking at the results of my childish tantrum. Dennis took a step into the room, his ears pricked and alert as he tested whether or not I was ready for his company. I looked up and sighed. Dennis hadn’t done anything wrong, and I saw no reason why I shouldn’t grant him entry to what remained of my kitchen. He finally walked up and sat firmly on my lap, purring. I knew he wanted food again, it’s the only time he’s ever affectionate, but when I summoned the motivation to get him a bowl, he continued sitting there. I looked over at the foul smelling chunks of cat food, wrinkling my nose as Dennis simply ignored it.
On that thought, I decided it was time I got myself out the door to work, so I tactfully removed the cat from my lap and stood up, looking back at the now disorganised and filthy kitchen. Dennis stood alert among the assorted kinds of food and cutlery, the broken china and the door from my cupboard, which had somehow been torn from its hinges during what can only be described as a momentary lapse of sanity. His food remained untouched near where I was sat, and was still untouched when I arrived home from work, whilst Dennis was sat waiting for me by the front door, probably hungry. His food was there, so what on earth was the silly fat animal waiting for? To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’ll ever really understand how his head works, but perhaps he’s much smarter than I give him credit for.
