Jane Jago’s Drabbles – Three Hundred and Sixty-Nine

Oliver bought the kitten in a pub, because he felt sorry for the tiny bundle of pale fluff.

Halfway home he was regretting the impulse, but he felt responsible so he braved a possible shitstorm.

Except his formidable mother took one look and fell in love. She stroked the kitten with her large, white hands and it fell asleep in her lap.

Tabitha became a fixture, and when Oliver married she stayed with his mother. 

It wasn’t until the old lady died that anyone thought to wonder how a cat had lived for forty years. Or where she was now…

©jj 2019

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Start a Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: