My uncle used to date a woman who lived next door to him. Bad idea, I know, it seemed to work out pretty well for him. And, to be fair, she was a wicked cool woman. I would have dated her. She had this amazing hippie philosophy on life, she had painted her kitchen brilliant yellow, she was an acupuncturist, for god's sake, it's really tough to
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Heather, your next short story should be about an alien who wants to try life out as a cat on Earth.
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But then I realized that one of the writing puzzles that occurs to me sometimes, like finding a better way to express laughter, is how to write a good story from the point of view of a pet...a pet/alien is even more of a challenge.
Still, a little sci fi for me, crazy lady.
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yep. that's all i've got.
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Awesome. I once came to almost the same conclusion, possibly under the influence of a certain drug mentioned above. Except I just thought all animals everywhere, at all times, were having a great trip on acid.
I think I spent a long time following the cat around the house on my hands and knees. So yes, cats, and that innocent little sugar cube, bring out the crazy in people.
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Maybe earth is their version of prison. I woudn't come here voluntarily either.
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