This week, we tried something different at More Odds Than Ends. And I goofed, but it worked! In adding a randomly assigned emotion, I listed enough for the usual crew…and over-emoted, listing a prompt when none was to be had.

Which means my combined prompt was blank satisfaction. Lots of possibilities. A blank canvas, ready to come to life with vibrant color? Daydreaming contentedly of nothing in particular? A well-lived life, slipping into nothingness? A grinning bride, the soon-to-be Mrs. Blank?

Or…

Miffles licked her lips with satisfaction, content that the annoying noise had ceased at last. Two long years, she’d put up with the noise. Endless clanging metal, the squeaking swing, bells ringing day and night.

For two long years, she’d heard nothing but cheeping and chirping. And Mama cooing back, when Mama’s time would have been better spent on the the blue couch with fuzzy pillows, petting Miffles until she was tired of her fur being ruffled.

But this day, it came to a head at last. Today, Lemondrop escaped her cage, swooping just out of reach for well over an hour as Miffles danced on her back paws, fangs on display. Her front paws stretched just not far enough, until she pretended to take a nap.

And that’s when Lemondrop had let down her guard. The brilliant yellow canary had been worn out from teasing the black tabby, and settled in for a nap of her own.

It had been just long enough for Miffles to pounce. She rolled around in the cloud of feathers, exulting in her victory. And the silence. And the attention that would soon be hers, all hers, as soon as Mama got back from –

And there it was! Keys in the lock! Mama was home!

Miffles trotted to the door, a trail of feathers drifting behind her from where yellow dotted her fur.

“Hi, kitty.” Keys dropped into the bowl beside the door as Mama shoved it closed with a hip, a brown paper bag in her arms.

Miffles mewed in response, awaiting her well-earned praise and petting.

The bag crashed to the floor a moment later. “Miffles! What the ____ did you do? Bad ____ kitty!”

Mama stomped by a suddenly confused Miffles and headed into the room with the blue couch. Wails emerged, louder than Lemondrop had ever been. “Bad kitty! _____! _____ _____ _____! Bad!”

Miffles poked her head into the bag and curled up inside to wait out the wailing. And if the cold creamy box melted, it smelled as if she would have another snack soon enough.

***

Check out what Cedar Sanderson did with the fury of the llama!