Bastien
Really, given his experiences with the naughty street-cats of Venice, Bastien wasn't sure why he had even tried to tell this particular kitty what to do. Just like any of her species she immediately ignored his instructions, not only coming closer but jumping up onto the table and depositing a mouse right on his sketchbook, drawing a groan of irritated disgust from him. "Thank you." He said sarcastically, as he watched the cat walk away.Standing up he held his book open until he could get to a bin and slide the mouse off it, the dead creature leaving a smear of some unknowable substance on the page. He sighed, wondering if it was worth getting an entirely new book: perhaps it would be nice to keep the memory, even if that memory was held in mouse bodily fluids.
{FIN}
Let's pick the truth that we believe in
like a bad religion
