Cuteness overload
So, yesterday in my creative writing class our theme was "difficult material." The three already-published stories we discussed were about Vietnam, the Holocaust, and a plane crash. So, yeah, lots of fun... :/. And one of the two student stories we workshopped was about a teenage pregnancy, drowning of a baby, and a possible suicide. Also lots of fun. The other workshop story was a little lighter.
As we were discussing the first story, we heard a meowing, which startled most of us. The girl sitting closest to the outside door said "The cat's right outside the door." Probably she said "the" cat because several people had seen it around before. I hadn't. Then the meowing grew louder, and we (the people on my side of the circle at least) turned around and saw that a cute, fluffy, white cat was right outside the window, rubbing against the screen. Everyone was saying we should let it in, but the prof hesitated because she was a new hire (this is her first class here) and she had been told not to have animals in the classroom. But she asked if anyone had allergies and the only person who raised her hand was also the person who most wanted the cat to be let in. So she finally said we could let the cat in, and the guy sitting next to me (right in front of the window) opened the screen. Prof said we had to leave the screen open so the cat could get out again if it wanted to.
So there we were, discussing the most depressing stories we have talked about yet, and we've talked about some pretty depressing stories, petting the cat that was walking from desk to desk and occasionally stopping all conversation to watch the cat do something like stand very still and pounce. And occasionally everyone would laugh at something the cat did. I don't know how we managed to focus on our discussion as well as we did.
The tables were in a circle. Or more an uneven pentagon, but whatever. Most of the tables were very close to the one next to it, so the cat could just step across, but closest to the door there was a wider gap. It just so happened that the professor sat at one side of that gap. And the cat just happened to walk counterclockwise most of the time, so almost every time, when it got to that gap, it would pounce, right onto the prof's book or papers or something, making everything slide around. Once, in the middle of a discussion when the prof wanted to point out something in the book, the cat decided to lie down right on top of the book. It didn't stay there long. It didn't stay anywhere long, but it did stay there long enough that she made her point some other way, without using the book.
The cat was quite the social butterfly. It walked from desk to desk, and loved when people pet it, so it would stop for a bit, usually, but it never stayed anywhere long. When it got around the circle again, it'd let you pet it again. (I feel so bad saying it, but we never checked if it was a boy or a girl, or even what it's name was, and it did have a collar.) Once it stopped at my desk long enough to lie down and purr and everything. Occasionally it would stop at the window sill and stay there for a while and we would all wonder if it was leaving, but it usually came back. Then, when we were workshopping the last story, it left.
Of all days for a cuteness overload in the form of a cat to walk in, it had to be the day we discussed the saddest, most horribly depressing stories. It was weird. But fun.
As we were discussing the first story, we heard a meowing, which startled most of us. The girl sitting closest to the outside door said "The cat's right outside the door." Probably she said "the" cat because several people had seen it around before. I hadn't. Then the meowing grew louder, and we (the people on my side of the circle at least) turned around and saw that a cute, fluffy, white cat was right outside the window, rubbing against the screen. Everyone was saying we should let it in, but the prof hesitated because she was a new hire (this is her first class here) and she had been told not to have animals in the classroom. But she asked if anyone had allergies and the only person who raised her hand was also the person who most wanted the cat to be let in. So she finally said we could let the cat in, and the guy sitting next to me (right in front of the window) opened the screen. Prof said we had to leave the screen open so the cat could get out again if it wanted to.
So there we were, discussing the most depressing stories we have talked about yet, and we've talked about some pretty depressing stories, petting the cat that was walking from desk to desk and occasionally stopping all conversation to watch the cat do something like stand very still and pounce. And occasionally everyone would laugh at something the cat did. I don't know how we managed to focus on our discussion as well as we did.
The tables were in a circle. Or more an uneven pentagon, but whatever. Most of the tables were very close to the one next to it, so the cat could just step across, but closest to the door there was a wider gap. It just so happened that the professor sat at one side of that gap. And the cat just happened to walk counterclockwise most of the time, so almost every time, when it got to that gap, it would pounce, right onto the prof's book or papers or something, making everything slide around. Once, in the middle of a discussion when the prof wanted to point out something in the book, the cat decided to lie down right on top of the book. It didn't stay there long. It didn't stay anywhere long, but it did stay there long enough that she made her point some other way, without using the book.
The cat was quite the social butterfly. It walked from desk to desk, and loved when people pet it, so it would stop for a bit, usually, but it never stayed anywhere long. When it got around the circle again, it'd let you pet it again. (I feel so bad saying it, but we never checked if it was a boy or a girl, or even what it's name was, and it did have a collar.) Once it stopped at my desk long enough to lie down and purr and everything. Occasionally it would stop at the window sill and stay there for a while and we would all wonder if it was leaving, but it usually came back. Then, when we were workshopping the last story, it left.
Of all days for a cuteness overload in the form of a cat to walk in, it had to be the day we discussed the saddest, most horribly depressing stories. It was weird. But fun.