This is meant to be a collaborative story where everyone can participate in the storytelling if they wish to. I would like to concentrate on Moira the cat and Catherine as the main characters, but other characters animal, human, solid or spirit are welcome with minds and voices of their own. Stories don't just have beginnings, middles, and ends, they have plot, climax and resolution. So I think that chapters might be a good idea although this story can be any length, novel, short story, or slight tale, or do I mean tail? Let's see how it goes........
Chapter One
Moira was a slinky cat. Her slim brown body wriggled around all sorts of corners and angles in her attempts to keep an eye on the mouse population in her town of Greysbridge. Young by human years, she had the wisdom of instinct and of the Sphinx itself inside her small furry head. Listening, sniffing, looking, testing with her paws, her ways of connecting to her world filled her with constant pleasure.
Lime green eyes danced with delight as she spied a butterfly out in the open courtyard. Glancing around she crouched and ran and leaped out into the sunlit open space and...just missed the pretty blue and gold insect as it flitted off higher than she could leap.
Oh well, she thought, licking her shoulder with dignity and not looking around in case any other cat eyes were spying on her and laughing at her failure. Hearing a bolt being pushed back, she jerked her head up and was so pleased to see her human friend Catherine entering the court yard. Catherine had come to feed the horses and, of course, Moira herself. Moira rose to her feet in one smooth instant and her tail stood straight in the air as she headed with delight toward her human friend. She purred as she rubbed
Catherine's knee with her cheeks and chin and she heard the horses snicker low and pleased because Catherine was their friend, too.
Catherine was in her element. Kneeling to pet Mo-cat, as she called Moira, the gentle breeze rustled her soft brown hair where it escaped her pony tail and caught the bottom edge of her old, soft green sweater swinging it open. Another glorious day, she thought. As she surveyed the scene before her, all the horses had put their heads outside the half doors of their box stalls and were gazing fondly at
her. Her eyes widened and then squinted as she picked up the flash of a whitish round shape about 4 feet up in the air at the edge of the stable. It was one of the small spirits she often saw flashing to her so she'd be aware of their presence here in this courtyard.