Late Dinner

Late Dinner

“I saw the cat leap onto the table. As he landed, I rose out of my chair watching him slide across the slick wooden surface right toward me and my cup of hot tea. Time slowed as my body rose inch by inch, all the while watching the giant fluffy, now frantic ball of fur, come toward me. My chair shot back, tipping on its back two legs as it crashed to the floor, then slid across the linoleum taking the two bowls, one cat food, and one water, and crashing with them into the fridge.

The noise scared the cat even more. I could see his eyes widen to the size of dishes as his feet began to scramble against the slick surface, to no avail. He slid forward, I reached for my tea cup. My hands just closing around the cup as the cat reached me at full speed.

I flung the cup upward, away from the cat and my face. It flew out of my hands a fraction of a second before the cat hit full force. He and I careened backwards onto the floor and slid toward the overturned chair. The cup spun away, spewing tea in a giant, hot, brown arc as it flew across the kitchen then crashed into the stove shattering into a thousand pieces and sprinkling itself all over the floor.

The dog heard the noise and ran in. I jumped up to keep him from stepping in the broken glass, flinging the cat as I rose. Losing my balance as I scurried for the dog, I crashed into the door frame and bumped my head. The dog and cat both bolted. That’s when you came in.”

“Oh,” said my husband. “So, dinner will be late?”

“Unless you order something nearby... yes.”