Cat, I loved this. You remind me again and again what a splendid writer you are. And that's because you are humorous and drastic and poetic and quick-witted and bright and sensitive - to the point that you sometimes kill your fictional characters, in order to, perhaps, make us all share the pain of the world? (I had to say that, didn't I?) Anyway, you are like a chef, carefully composing and seasoning your every course with elegance and aplomb and fresh and sparkling nouns and verbs, astringent images and mellow similes.
Consider your take on hard-boiled Lois, Mad Dog Lane, the cat lover, the fearsome softie! The independent woman whose life has been turned upside down by
two brown-eyed wonder guys who have burst into her life
at the same time and who are somehow so similar that she can't tell them apart in her nocturnal fantasies, and yet this award-winning investigative reporter can't figure out that when it comes to Superman and Clark, 1 + 1 = 1!
I love how you write Lois's crush on Clark and Superman (though, when you think about it, mostly on Clark), and Clark's crush on Lois. Those pterodactyl wings! Oh, my! The dino-bird forelimbs of flight in themselves are enough to earn you an additional star in the Michelin Guide of gourmet fanfics! The flavor of pterodactyl-flutter of love!!!!
Careful of her obviously injured tail and sore heiny, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. Realizing she was in sympathetic company, the cat began to emit pitiful cries that seemed to say 'Woe me, I have been injured! Pamper me!'
"Yes I know, poor baby," he crooned softly as he stroked the underside of her chin. At the attention, she began to purr loudly.
Oh, sniffle! I'm crying here! I can so see that little kitty face and hear the soft pitiful miaows and feel the slight weight and soft silky fur of that little feline body!
Tentatively, Lois reached for the cat, stopping a couple of centimeters away. "I'm sorry for almost killing you, Miss Kitty." After a few seconds she gave Clark a petulant glare. "Still feeling the guilt here, Kent."
It was then that Miss Kitty decided to make amends. She bumped her moist kitty noise against the outstretched fingers, sniffing momentarily before bathing the skin with her sandpapery tongue.
Clark had never believed a person could actually melt, but Lois's reaction towards the Lick of Friendship was probably as close as a person could actually come to doing so.
I'm melting, too!! I'm crying! (Eh - my second language word policewoman tells me you should probably write "kitty nose" instead of kitty noise" - that obnoxious busybody policewoman! Damn her for disturbing my crying!)
"Oh Clark," she breathed out softly before running her fingers through the silky fur.
The pterodactyl soared from around his large intestine and up past his pancreas to flap around the area between his lungs. "You wanna hold her?"
Lois nodded almost shyly before holding out her hands. There was a brief confused moment during the exchange, where arms brushed against chests and there was a collective blushing incident, but soon the cat was nestled firmly in Lois's grasp. Miss Kitty purred contently as she gave Lois's upper arm a mild massage with her little kitty toes.
*whimper-like sounds of tearful happiness*
"We should call the vet as well, maybe get her checked up. And also try the number on her collar. Mr. Wiggles? Who names a girl cat that, anyway!"
*helpless laughter*
I couldn't kill the kitty!
Thanks for not killing the cat, Cat! I won't reiterate what I think about the wanton killing of fictional women (somehow or other I think I may have mentioned something of that to you before) but did you know that I get
almost as angry at the wanton killing of fictional cats? And that is precisely because real-life cats are treated so disrespectfully! For hundreds of years, cats were regarded as associated with the Devil (people are crazy, aren't they?
). So real live cats were burned at the stakes with supposed witches, and for the longest time there were traditions in Europe where people took part in competitions where they killed and tortured cats, and you can still see in books and films how cats are killed to create just the right amount of fear, because cats are cute but ultimately worthless so they are perfect to kill for the right ominous sense of foreboding or sadness or shock and loss or whatever, aren't they? Aren't they? NO THEY AREN'T!!!!!!! *end of rant*
Thanks for saving the cat, Cat! And thanks for the story. I loved it! *sniffle*
Ann
Wrong story. I meant to click on the Pop-Tart link.