Psimon Posted August 1, 2003 Report Posted August 1, 2003 Moses ***** Ryan Phillips possessed a mind-numbing collection of movie paraphernalia, as diverse as it was cluttered and covered in dust. No matter how I tried, I just could not understand his fascination given that Ryan had never seen a movie. Stepping carefully between the boxes of scripts and carefully rolled posters, I made my way towards the enormous oak desk that held sway in the darkest corner of the room. It was here that Ryan placed himself each day, having negotiated the maze of his most precious belongings with consummate ease, and it was here he sat until the light had admitted defeat for another day. He did nothing at his desk but sit. He did not eat, he did not speak, and he did not sleep, a fact I was sure of only because I had watched him, day after day, sitting, staring at the void that consumed his sight. He blinked; he breathed; he sat. And I watched. I can only suppose that his collection was a palpable link to that part of the world which he could not share with me. Perhaps it is egotistical of me to think that way, but then that is just how I am. He accepts me as I am, just as I accept him, and we would have it no other way. Today seemed misplaced in the clutter of our lives. There was something not quite right in the world. A ‘disturbance in The Force’, Ryan would say. A feeling, call it intuition if you must give it a name, had nudged me from my dreams and then rudely pushed me towards the study without so much as an ‘Excuse me’ or a ‘Pardon me for disturbing you’. Fate could be decidedly obstinate when it wanted to be. But I did not resist too fiercely. I was hungry and thirsty when I opened my eyes to the new day, so this path was as good as any to the kitchen. I watch him, as I have done so many times, waiting for his eyes to fall shut and spring open, but they remained still. What was he staring at? Nothing. He couldn’t see. He was staring at nothing. Then why didn’t he blink? This was strange. This was not like him at all. A butterfly began a trapeze solo in my gut while an icy worm slithered and slipped its way down my back. I tried to get a little closer, straining to see or hear evidence of breathing. There was none! Oh, Ryan… no. ***** ‘So, who is going to look after him?’ ‘The last will and testament of Mr Phillips clearly states that Moses is to stay with the collection, wherever it may be housed. I can see the headlines now – “Blind billionaire heir dies childless – leaves all to cat” There’s more than enough funding to establish the collection in its own building, and to employ a full staff to care for it and the animal. All in all, I’d say that’s one lucky cat’. The two lawyers looked at me hawkishly as I feigned sleep in my carry-crate. I was keeping my eye on them, though. I’ve never trusted lawyers. ‘That’s for sure. One very lucky cat’.
WrenWind Posted August 1, 2003 Report Posted August 1, 2003 A very lucky cat Great little story with a fun twist . *applauds*
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