Welcome to yet another Secondary Sunday!
Things have been… difficult for us lately. And for us I mean me! Of course. It took me a time to get this right but I didn’t want to be late so soon. Delays will happen, life is often unpredictable. But for now, I want this to be okay.
Sorry about the delay.
Now, without further ado… here’s:
They are always hungry. Maybe if they weren’t hungry all the time they would remember to give you your side quest one of these days.
Mr. Fluffkins III often wonders where it is that you’re going all the time. They often talk about you to their friends, not too often mind you. It’s not like they care that much.
Cinnabun, from two blocks over, likes to hear about you while she cleans her tabby coat with a coarse but careful tongue. She thinks your name is like that from a video game… she would know since she was also named after a video game.
“A boring one,” her master would say. “I only named her that ironically.” he would carry on saying even though no one ever questions him about it and he is probably just giving himself away.
“He loves that game, he really does.” Cinnabun would assure you if she could only talk to you.
She can’t talk to you! You don’t talk to cats! Only crazy people talk to cats… Or maybe brave people, wise ones. Wise enough to know that Mr. Fluffkins III has a side quest for them but is too distracted by the burdens of life to tell you without being prompted.
“You see,” Mr. Fluffkins would often tell you while you are in the shower or pressing your heavy hands against their tired but flexible body. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about it…” here they pause, implying time and thought. “What’s with that picture you have by the window? That’s not you. Or anyone I know… so who is it?”
They’re not being rude. They just honestly wish they knew you a little better. They wish you knew them a little better.
A cat’s life is half spent wishing.
Maybe you should consider that the next time you decide to go away for a couple of days leaving Daisy in charge… nothing wrong with Daisy but you do know she usually comes over to cry on your couch while staring with half moon eyes at her phone.
Mr. Fluffkins III knows so much about half moon eyes and days spent crying on the couch. They’ve looked at you for years, often crying over a TV show, books or a phonecall gone wrong with your parents.
“At least you have parents.” They never say. No one says that. They only think it.
“Maybe this quest will make you feel better,” they say instead, their voice soft like a peach that’s been dropped from your counter ten times too many. “It’s a good quest. A long one. You’d be gone long enough to be missed.”
They never truly tell you because they know you will be missed. You are missed every minute, every second you spend away from home and Mr. Fluffkins III. They miss you and care for you so much that they often get distracted by the hardships of a life in which they can’t comfort you while you can’t listen.
They have a quest for you… a long one. But they will probably never give it to you.
They much rather keep you by their side.