An early morning phone call from your friend and co-worker, Eli, who seems to have got himself into a spot of bother.

“Can you explain that again?” you ask, confused by Eli’s words.

“What part of ‘I dropped my iron on the cat’ requires clarification?” Eli replies.  “Look, I need to deal with this before I can leave.  Can you square me being late with Hal?  Tell him Angie’s sick or something.”

“What time will… wait… what’s that sound?  Is that the cat?”

“Yeah.  He’s fine though.  Barely had his tail singed.  Damn cat was actually chewing on the dangling cord when I came into the room.  I tried to stop him but accidentally knocked the iron over in the process.  That’s when he got hit.  Now he’s hiding under the bed and won’t come out.”

“Can I ask why you were even using an iron in the first place?”

“Oh, I iron my boxers last thing before heading out when it’s like this outside.  The heat buffers the ol’ apparatus from the shock of a cold morning.  Stupid weathergirl.  I hate it when – SWEET JESUS!”


“Astro just dug his claws into my shin!”

“Are you okay?” you ask.  A string of profanities and a series of bangs and crashes are all you hear in response.

“Okay man, I’ll pass on the message to Hal,” you say.  “I gotta go now though.  I think they sell Bactine down at the Save-Rite, just in case you were wondering.”

You hang up, shaking your head.  Eli and his cat would be great fodder for a series of stories.

This mild calamity now dealt with, you...

The End

4 comments about this story Feed