Jumpin' Cat Flash

Jumpin' Cat Flash

Randy watched Bolo bat a ball of yarn all around the living room, the location of each course change easily found by simply backtracking the line of yarn.  As it unrolled, the cat's swats moved it ever faster across the floor, often imparting some altitude as well.  Sharon would be ticked, he knew, but he could always buy more yarn; Bolo was a riot to watch.

The clock chimed eight and Randy started supper.  Sharon would be home soon, tired and hungry after a day filled with meetings.  The water for the spaghetti was just starting to boil when the telephone rang.  Randy checked the cordless phone's display: Sharon!

"Hi!" he greeted, dropping the pasta into the water.  "Almost here?"

"Twenty minutes at least," came the fatigued reply.  "Broadway's really backed up.  Any dinner plans?"

Randy smiled to himself, glad he'd already begun the preparations.  "How does spaghetti sound," he answered, "accompanied by soft music and the light of one tall candle?"

He missed Sharon's reply, because a number of things happened at that moment.  A small ball of yarn came flying through the kitchen entrance, Bolo in pursuit.  The yarn cleared the countertop, its trailing string landing dangerously close to the stove's red-hot burner.  Before Randy could take a breath to shout "No!", Bolo leaped after the ball.  He slammed into the pot of boiling pasta, sloshing water over the edge of the pot and down onto the stovetop.  The water flooded the drip pan and ran down the heating element to the connector.  With a brilliant flash, the stove shorted out and blew the main fuse, plunging the apartment into darkness.  Without power from the base unit, the handset died, too.  Frightened yowling faded into the darkness.

Well, Randy reflected, it'll still be a candlelit dinner.

[298 words]