Fiction: The Wrong Tool

Bijou lay in the middle of the living room, exercising the principle of center control as a chess player would. Her humans sat on the couch in front of her. They exchanged occasional words, but the cat did not recognize any of them, nor were they in tones that attracted her attention. She stretched her legs out a bit more for comfort and to take up more space.

“Okay, let’s just see what happens,” the male human, Seamus, said. The female human, Ruri, sighed.

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