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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197296
Rated: E · Short Story · Animal · #2197296
Why would our human never open the kitchen window? What were they hiding behind the glass?
THE TERRIBLE AND DREAD SECRET OF THE CLOSED KITCHEN WINDOW

          Our human is well trained. They make sure we're fed, they clean our litter box, and they almost always open the windows when we want them to. But there is one window in the kitchen, they never open. No matter how often I paw at the window, no matter how ferocious I am, no matter how insistent, they won't open it. They say, "That window won't open," but I wonder: what are they hiding? What wonders lie beyond, or what terrible and dread secrets does the glass hide? I jump onto the counter, and then onto the windowsill, but I only see the outside world, and all its vivid greens and reds and blues in the warm afternoon sunlight, but I see nothing that would explain their reluctance to open it.

#

          Often, I worry about our human: they're easily discouraged. It's a lot of work trying to create a stimulating, fun, and loving environment they can flourish in. I even assure them, all the time, I would never eat them--unless they were dead, but I'm worried they don't understand. All things considered though, I think we three cats do a great job, and I can't fathom what they would do without us.
         You don't believe me? Well, a normal summer day might go like this: we would all be enjoying the coolness of our air-conditioned home, laying around in the warm sunlight, and knowing that outside the heat of the sun made it unbearably hot. I would become worried about our human. They sat in front of the flat box with moving shapes and colors situated above the box of warm. I didn't understand their obsession with all the shapes and colors; they were interesting for a few moments, but I could lie in the warmth of the other box all day, and I could sleep which our human never got enough of--how can you live with only 8 hours!? It had to be unhealthy; they sat on the other side with all the warmth wasted to the open air. I needed to create a distraction to keep them on their toes.
         I looked at the door, but it wasn't my turn to pretend to escape, and it didn't look like they were leaving soon anyways. I looked over at the other two, "Watch this," I said as I jumped up onto the nearest window. One of them looked away, and the other rolled their eyes: they didn't appreciate my genius. I started pawing on the window. Imagining it was an enemy, I ferociously eviscerated it. Our human continued making the clicking sound in front of the boxes. They leaned further in like they didn't notice me, but they couldn't fool me. I increased the ferocity of my attack.
         Finally, they looked up and said, "It's hot out there? You're only going to hide in the tub, and I'll have to shut the windows again." I covered up a snicker as I continued scratching on the window. They sighed, "Okay," and putting aside the boxes, they came over and opened the window. A breath of hot hair touched my nose, and I breathed in all the wild smells of the outside. I smelled the acrid weeds, the sweet flowers, the musty exhaust, and I heard the buzzing of a thousand insects. Then with barely suppressed glee, I jumped down, and made my way into the bathroom, and I jumped into the cool tub, and I fell asleep thinking about how much better I made their life. I didn't even hear when they closed the windows again.

#

          But one day, everything changed. Others pushed their way into the apartment with bulky clinking belts and odd shaped objects in their hands that made loud noises. We all hid hoping our human, who had left earlier this morning, was okay (I had made a daring 'escape attempt', and they had only just caught me). They made loud noises in the kitchen for a long time, and it was a longer time still after the sounds died away, and we heard their heavy footfalls fading away outside that I finally ventured out again. And, by then, as the wild smells of the outside world wafted from the kitchen, I knew something was very wrong.
         Was the kitchen window open? Would I find out what terrible and dread secrets were hidden behind the glass? I ran into the kitchen, and it was open--and there was no screen. I jumped from perch to perch eyes fixed on the open window. And as I approached the final jump, I slipped on a piece of paper and fell down. That is to say, I elegantly slid down to the floor, and, no matter what the others tell you, I hit the landing perfectly, and I jumped up onto the counter below the window as I had always intended.
         The hot breeze touched my nose again, and I breathed in its wild scents, I basked in its warmth, and I heard the wild sounds. I prepared to make the final jump knowing my life would change forever. And then... And then--I jumped down and made my way to the tub instead. It was--all the sudden--way too hot in the apartment.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197296