Ficlets

The Writer Experiences a Minor Setback

The next morning, I awoke with something very warm and very minty in my face.

“Shcooter, off.” My voice was was muffled by his unbelievable amounts of fluff.

I dodged sluggishly out of the way just as his paws threatened to trample my face.

I got up from bed, stopping when a wave of dizziness rushed up to meet me.

I grasped the bed post, trying to steady myself and my dangerously blurry vision.

“What the bloody hell was that?” I murmured irately, blinking in an attempt to get my bearings.

I sat back down on the bed, afraid to take a step forward lest I lose my balance and fall down.

Scooter crawled into my lap, his green eyes drilling holes into me.

I swayed backwards, and stopped myself just in time; I lowered my head to the pillow again.

I didn’t feel sleepy and that was funny, because things started to go black. Little dots started to dance in front of me.

This is how it is to faint, huh?

The last thing I remembered was Scooter yowling his head off.

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