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21 April 2009 @ 06:43 pm
The tidbits of a lifetime.  

I'm writing a novel.
Trying, actually.
It's a tough job and I don't think I have a plot, really.

Breeze
Chapter One "Mother"


It was a fine Saturday morning when Kate Gräpé finally decided to get off the couch and walk the family cat. The animal was white in color and had crystalline blue eyes like the sea that the Gräpés have lived on until this very day. It was a fat cat with small paws and retracting claws which were sharpened through scratches on the wooden legs of Kate’s bed. She slept next to the bedroom drawer, right underneath the proximity of a nearby window which provided beautiful summer warmth on mornings since the room was on the second floor of the Gräpé house .



It was a fine Saturday morning when Kate Gräpé finally decided to get off the couch and walk the family cat. The animal was white in color and had crystalline blue eyes like the sea that the Gräpés have lived on until this very day. It was a fat cat with small paws and retracting claws which were sharpened through scratches on the wooden legs of Kate’s bed. She slept next to the bedroom drawer, right underneath the proximity of a nearby window which provided beautiful summer warmth on mornings since the room was on the second floor of the Gräpé house. The cat purred and was a happy cat for it received much fish from Father’s weekend visits to the sea. Most of the time the cat accompanied Father on his fishing trips and this angered Kate for Father did not let anyone else come with him to such feats of the sea. It was a private deed for him, much like how a woman spends most of her time in beautifying herself. Bringing the cat along meant that it was of value to him and that he didn’t mind the cat’s presence but rather embraced its company.

           

Kate roughly dragged the cat across the lush greens of the garden that surrounded the manor. The cat did not complain, but only smirked as its paws ravaged the ground, stepping on yellow flowers and soft ferns. Kate bit on her bottom lip and stopped her march, turning to glare at the animal.

           

“You stupid piece of fluff,” she growled. “I wish you’d never been born! That way, Father wouldn’t have to tire himself when he fishes for your food.”

           

Kate slumped down on the grass and squinted her eyes against the sun, marveling at the lumps of white cloud plastered onto the sky. She thought of how the outline of the clouds reminded her of the cat that had now curled itself against her feet. She quickly tore her eyes away from the placid view and took into mind how the cat rubbed against the soles of her red ruby shoes. Aunt Susan had bought them for her seventh birthday three months ago. The sleek leather shone underneath the cat’s glimmering eyes.

           

“Don’t you dare scratch them,” she sternly warned. “Or else I’ll throw you off into the sea. But I guess you wouldn’t worry much because Father will surely fish for your body all night long.”

           

She felt the cat grin. She sat up and reached for the animal, hoisting it on her lap. She gently hugged it against her chest and ran a hand across its thick fur while glancing back and forth at the sky as if her whole future was written there and she wanted to find out about life before death. Looking back at the bundle of fur in her arms, Kate leaned back on the grass again and let the fat animal rest on the base of her stomach. Kate sighed and closed her eyes, letting the nearby breeze of the sea calm her senses.

 

---

 

A few years ago on a summertime such as this, the one sole center of peace in the Gräpé household slept. Slept for all eternity. This person was no other than Kate’s mother, a good-natured woman who had very little to say yet so much meaning to voice out. She had always been weak, especially on summer where the sun was at its full strength, where heat reached its maximum level of tolerance. But even though fever struck her bones, Mother was as stubborn as a mule and made sure dinner had been served on the table for the other occupants of the Gräpé manor.

               

“It’s that time of year again,” Father had said as he gazed at the steak on his plate and the basket of muffins near the edge of the dinner table. A rich smell oozed out of a silver pot at the center of the wooden surface and Kate leaned over to peer at its contents. Mother had made one of the basic recipes a mother should know. Father gently reached towards the pot and used a melamine ladle to scoop out its liquid contents. It was corn soup and anyone who lived in the Gräpé house for so long knew that Mother only made her special corn soup on rare occasions. Serving it then somehow meant that she wanted her family to taste it one last time, if ever she left that day.

               

And she did leave.

               

Father walked up to her room and saw that she had not woken up from her afternoon nap. A few days later a reverend came, blessed the body and had it buried afterwards, right at the large yard behind the house. It was a simple ceremony and only a few tears had been shed.

               

At the same day as her funeral, a small kitten came out from within the nearby forest that surrounded the outskirts of the manor. The animal looked like it had come to view just to see the occasion. When Kate left for her room to grieve, Father took the cat and it had ever since been a replacement for their loss. Another mouth to feed had been no trouble for him. Fishing for the cat helped him forget.

 

---

 

“Alexandra,” Father called out just as he came to view. His bellowing voice awoke Kate from her deep reverie and angered her. He had called out for the cat, not for her. The fat animal leaped away from her stomach and trotted towards Father’s looming figure. He scooped her up into his arms and walked off, but he was slow enough to hear Kate mutter, “How stupid,” underneath her breath. He did not turn around though but kept on walking, whispering slightly to the purring cat.

 

“It’s all right my sweet. She’s just cranky today. Shall I give you a bath?”

 

Kate sat up and looked longingly at her father’s retreating figure, suddenly remembering Mother and then forgetting because now she had wanted to take back the cat and throw it in the ocean.

End.

It's weird.
I have three chapters.
Shall I post the rest?

Oh, and I've made a community. It's called [info]burningtongue and it's for the purpose of discussion and gaining some insight. Please help me promote it. YOU GUYS SHOULD COME JOIN TOO.

~K