Christy Rozek--Assignment #3--Being chased by the cat

I’m sitting here, in a box, on the floor in Arkansas. I hear the lady of the house say “Bill, you don’t have to practice your saxophone in the garage, unless you like it out there or something.” Hmmm, she’s taking the cover off of the box now…she grabs a ball of yarn right next to me, I would call it sky blue, but nothing can really be the color of the sky. She sticks two very pointy looking knitting needles in it, and then chucks it out of the second floor window. Oh no, I hope I’m not next! Claw like fingernails dig into some of my outer threads, I can feel the very doom of my fibers approaching. Oh! Thank goodness! It’s only Socks the cat! He overturns the box, sending us all rolling. It seems that Socks is especially interested in me this time. He bats me with his paw, sending my conglomeration of strings towards the mirror leaning against the wall. He stops; I come to a rolling halt. We gaze into the mirror. He turns around, and his tail flicks me across the room, out the doorway, to the top of the stairs. I’m over the crest of the top step and now I’m falling down the stairs. Socks hurries after me, he really doesn’t need to rush, I have no acceleration without his force acting on me. I finish the last step, somebody left maple syrup on the floor again.