pop-eye
By esme
the black cat lay on the rode, her fur fluffy, she was purring and batining in the hot sun. She started to lick her paws and claw the ground, the type of prodding cats do when they are happy. she had a silver bell on her neck.
houses were on each side of the road in a long line.
a car came speeding around the corner and screached to a hult just before it hit the black cat. The shocked driver quickly got out of his car and knelt beside the cat, he felt arround her neck for a name tag and phone number, as her head liffted the driver realised that the poor cat only had one eye.
"popeye" said the driver and liffted the cat into his arms, and rand the phone number.
"hello?" said the man.
"hi" said a female voice on the other end of the line.
"i have your cat, were is your house?"
"are you a cat burgular?"
"no!"
"i knew you wernt, you dont look like the man who steels cats, too well dressed."
"how do you know what i look like? anyhow a well dressed man can steel cats too"
there was a silenc for a split seccond on the phone, then the female voice said: "i can see you."
"what!"
"look to your left"
the man looked to his left and a wooman with long frizzy black hair and a pritty face stood looking at him through her window.
she waved to him and smiled.
"oh, sorry."
the phone went dead, the wooman gestured for the man to come in.
the man took a step foward and was hit by a car.
bllod everyware, even splattered accross the woomand clean window.
popeye pured.
TURN BACK WHEN A BLACK CAT CROSSES YOUR PATH.
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