It’s Not for Sale —Contest11-28-25

A worried cat visits a midnight market in search of peace of mind. For-Daily Flash Fiction

“It’s Not for Sale”
(300 words)

Farley was the kind of cat who worried thunder had a personal vendetta.

He worried the vacuum might suck him up. He worried the neighbor’s dog watched him like a snack. Tonight, he sat on the couch, paws tucked tight beneath him, worried about slipping off the cushion.

“Peace of mind,” Farley muttered. “I wish I had some. Maybe I could buy one.”

So, when the house fell asleep, he slipped out the cat door and padded to the Midnight Alley Market, where anxious animals wandered between glowing stalls and sipped herbal teas brewed from suspicious leaves.

At the far end stood a crooked booth with a hand-painted sign:

Marnie’s Marvels
Wishes, Whimsy & Mildly Questionable Advice

Farley hopped up, tail curled tight. “Hi. I’d like to buy peace of mind, please. A medium one. I hope that’s big enough.”

Marnie the owl peered over her spectacles. “Peace of mind?”

“Yes,” said Farley. “I don’t have one.”

She blinked slowly. “It’s not for sale.”

Farley sagged. “Not even on clearance?”

“No, sweetheart. Peace of mind isn’t something you buy. It’s something you practice.”

“Practice? Like laser dots?”

“Exactly,” she said. “Except slower. And you don’t crash into the lamp.”

Farley mulled that over. He trusted his human. He trusted the sunbeam that warmed the rug every afternoon. Surely he could trust himself a little, too.

But as he padded home, a new worry crept in.

“What if I forget to trust?” he whispered. “What if it slips out of my head?”

Then he took a breath.

“If I forget… I’ll just practice again.”

Curled on his blanket, Farley decided peace of mind wasn’t about never worrying.

Maybe it was just remembering how to begin again.