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Rated: 13+ · Book · Writing · #2178926
Lots of creative pursuits in 2019 and more in 2024 and beyond.
#972143 added December 30, 2019 at 11:48am
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Doolittle Residence
I picked my way towards the desk. The thing was strewn with papers and every odd sort of thing. Damned if Walter could find anything here. The incessant ringing of the phone had me pushing at the piles in search of the infernal devise.

Whoever invented cordless phones certainly did not live in squalor.

Fishing it out of the mess, I grabbed for it almost losing it once again before securing it, then panicking as I tried to figure out how to answer it before the ringing stopped.

By the time I answered I was almost certain the caller had given up, but then I heard a wee muttered muffle.
"Hello." I said in an attempt to communicate.

A voice at the other end swore. "Dammit, Doolittle. What you got that dang dog answering yer phone for? The rest of us can't understand a word he says. Doubt he can take messages."

The caller hung up.

Baffled I stared at the small device before dropping it back into the pile.

"Who was that?" Silvia asked slipping into the room and jumping up onto the back of the sofa in one graceful move.
"Some Crazy human asking for Walter."

"Did he say what he wanted?"

"No. Idiot thinks we aren't smart enough to take messages."

"See I told you not to answer it."

"Yeah, but what's the fun in that... besides Walter's not here."

Silvia walked along the back of the sofa, then leaped up onto the window sill. She began to preen herself.

Bored, I headed out of the room. It was bound to be more interesting in the kitchen. With any luck I could convince the mice to knock some food down for me, especially now that Silva was not trying to catch them to eat them for herself.

Words = 300.

Notes



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