(no subject)
It's late at night and I'm sitting on the steps of the theatre, waiting for my father to arrive. For those of you who have not seen the back of the theatre, it's little more than a set of scary metal steps leading down from the stage door in to a dimly-lit carpark. Beyond the carpark is a field, then a wooded area then a lake. Oh no, I don't mind hanging around alone there at night at all. Why do you ask?
So anyway, I'm just sitting on the steps minding my own business when I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I think: that's incredibly weird, but I don't want to be Miss Freaks-Out-At-The-Slightest-Thing so I slide my hand slowly in to my work bag and grab a can of spray paint (you wouldn't think it's a very clever weapon, but it really is). After a little while of waiting in terror, I don't see anything move again so I close my bag and decide that it must have just been my eyes playing tricks on me. But a second later, I hear a rustle in the bushes next to me.
In the millisecond it takes for me to grab my keys and open the stage door, I see a small black cat emerge from the bushes. Heart attack averted, I call out to the cat, but it only glances at me over its shoulder before running away.
Seconds later, my father arrives in his car.
"Did you see that cat?" I ask.
"What cat?"
"It was right there!" I point in the direction that the cat ran as I slide in to the car, but there is nothing. "I guess because it was black...maybe it's hiding from us and we just can't see it."
"Ooh, black cat! You theatre people are a suspicious lot, aren't you?"
"Dad, we had a black cat for nineteen years. I think if my luck was going to turn sour, it would have years ago."
I thought nothing of the little cat until today, when I woke up feeling wretched and had to take a few painkillers to cope, one of the lead actors broke his ankle and our printing guy set off the alarm at his work and ended up getting reamed by his boss for printing our stuff without charging us.
Superstitious lot indeed!
So anyway, I'm just sitting on the steps minding my own business when I see something move out of the corner of my eye. I think: that's incredibly weird, but I don't want to be Miss Freaks-Out-At-The-Slightest-Thing so I slide my hand slowly in to my work bag and grab a can of spray paint (you wouldn't think it's a very clever weapon, but it really is). After a little while of waiting in terror, I don't see anything move again so I close my bag and decide that it must have just been my eyes playing tricks on me. But a second later, I hear a rustle in the bushes next to me.
In the millisecond it takes for me to grab my keys and open the stage door, I see a small black cat emerge from the bushes. Heart attack averted, I call out to the cat, but it only glances at me over its shoulder before running away.
Seconds later, my father arrives in his car.
"Did you see that cat?" I ask.
"What cat?"
"It was right there!" I point in the direction that the cat ran as I slide in to the car, but there is nothing. "I guess because it was black...maybe it's hiding from us and we just can't see it."
"Ooh, black cat! You theatre people are a suspicious lot, aren't you?"
"Dad, we had a black cat for nineteen years. I think if my luck was going to turn sour, it would have years ago."
I thought nothing of the little cat until today, when I woke up feeling wretched and had to take a few painkillers to cope, one of the lead actors broke his ankle and our printing guy set off the alarm at his work and ended up getting reamed by his boss for printing our stuff without charging us.
Superstitious lot indeed!