Sarah O'Connor

Writer – Playwright – Cannot Save You From The Robot Apocalypse

Welp, this is a tricky prompt. Let’s see how it goes! 


The kitten was curled right on top of the broomstick, small orange body literally sleeping on the handle. It didn’t stir when Jessica stood over it, just slept peacefully, a soft hum escaping from it’s closed mouth as it somehow drifted deeper into sleep.

Jessica watched the tiny mound of fur. She’d never understood how cats could sleep anywhere, squeezed into a small box, lying on their own tail, or on top of her broomstick. Her familiar Plague had a habit of sleeping on her back, paws over her head, stretched out and obvious to the world.

The memory made Jessica laugh before it all at once closed her throat, made it hard to breath, to blink. It hadn’t been long since Plague’s death, one of the hardest things she’d had to do was put her down. Her old girl was sick, suffering, and when she looked at Jessica with her deep green eyes Jessica knew she was asking if it was okay to go, if her job was done. And though Jessica had wanted to be selfish and keep Plague for much longer than she should have she gave her familiar her wish and said goodbye.

She didn’t know how the orange blob had gotten into her garage and she didn’t care what Fate was trying to tell her. She wasn’t ready.

“You’re a pest,” Jessica told the orange mound which stirred at the sound of her voice and opened it’s eyes wide to her. They were amber dots, bright and searching. “Shoo now, I have errands to run.”

But the little orange kitten only sat up and gave a small meow, still sitting on the broom. She then gave a handful of small sneezes all while maintaining her balance on the broom. The sneezes squeezed Jessica’s heart, and she picked up the cat close to her and stroked it’s head.

“I hope you’re not sick,” she told the squirming fuzzball. “My last visit to the vet wasn’t a happy one.”

Jessica put the cat on her desk and shuffled through her cluttered desk until she found an old cold syrup she’d used for Plague long ago, before the last sickness. She found an empty dropper and filled it with the medicine before picking up the kitten and forcing the dropper in. “I don’t know if this will work but it should. If you’re still sneezing in the next few days I’ll take you to the vet.”

The kitten shook it’s head at the bitter medicine before turning to Jessica and blinking slowly up at her. She then cuddled into her lap and promptly fell asleep.

Jessica sighed, “Well at least you’re off my broomstick.” She gently put the kitten on her desk where it stayed sleeping. “And don’t think too much of this, you’re still a sickly little pest.” She paused and her mouth quirked on it’s own. “Pestilence.”

To stop herself from thinking she grabbed her broomstick off the floor and went out to run her errands, the small orange kitten Pestilence knowing she had found her home and her witch.

(Inktober Prompt List found here. Image found here.)

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