From Purradise with Love

To my loving family,

I know you’re all still in pain, and you’re sad because you miss me. The truth is I miss you all too, but the time has come to move on. I’m in a much better place now, and I promise I’m comfortable and happy. But since I got here, I’ve been told that humans have trouble accepting the loss of loved ones, so I hope this letter will put you at ease and give you peace.

Please understand that this was not your fault. I know you did everything you could to make me stay, but there was nothing you could have done for me anymore. I didn’t mean to hurt you by leaving; it was just my time to go. Don’t blame yourselves, because you did exactly what you should have done: you gave me a good life and made my last hours as comfortable as possible.

I want to thank you all for giving me the best life I could ever have asked for. I know I was too small when you found me to remember living on the street, but I’m grateful that you took me in and gave me a comfortable place in your home and in your family. I always had plenty of room to play, a warm lap to curl up in, soft beds to sleep in, and all the food I ever needed – even if you didn’t always get the flavor right or put as much in my bowl as I wanted, no matter how much I cried. Maybe I wasn’t good at making it clear (I hear humans express their affection differently), but you all meant the world to me, and I did care for you all very much.

I also want to thank you for the comfort you gave me in my last moments. Curled up in Mom’s arms was exactly where I wanted to be, and your goodbye kisses were the perfect way to send me off. I’m sorry you had to suffer by seeing me go, but I’m glad I could be with you all in the end.

So please don’t be sad, dear family. Remember the good times we had, and think about all the joy we shared in my ten years of life. I hope I’ve enriched your lives as much as you’ve enriched mine, and I’m sure you won’t forget me any time soon. I’ll certainly never forget you. This isn’t goodbye forever; we’ll see each other again soon. So be happy, and know that no matter where I am, you will always be my family, and I’ll love you forever. Until we meet again, a loving purr and great big meow to you all!

Love always,

Your Little One

P.S. The dog sends her love. She and I have put in a good word for you all with the Caretaker!


So our family cat passed away last month, a tragic day for us all. I wrote this letter in loving memory of her as my way of getting closure; though we all still miss her terribly, I like to imagine she’s in a better place now and still loves and remembers us wherever she is. We love you, Piccolina!

Oh, and the dog mentioned in the postscript is the same dog from “My Last Bark“, another “loving memory” story I wrote a few years ago. Yes, I really love my pets!

The Next Chapter

“Thank you!”

It’s all still a blur, but I know I ended my Master’s thesis presentation with the biggest smile on my face. The applause rang in my head for hours afterward. I barely even remember the evaluators’ comments during the defense.

All I remember is their last question: “What next?”

I’d already thought about the question long and hard. Would I attain a Ph.D right away, or take a break to pursue creative writing?

I smiled and said I’d follow my passion. They thought I meant science. I knew better.

“On to the next chapter of my life!”


This is a little 100-word challenge I set for myself just for fun, loosely based on a true story. Hope you enjoyed the piece! Thanks for reading!

Sweet Gold

(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)

The young bear spotted the bee landing on a daisy.

Curious, he followed the striped insect to its hive.

It led him through meadows rich with wildflowers.

Finally, it vanished into a large tree.

The cub sniffed the hive cautiously.

He reached his paw inside.

Out came something sticky.

It tasted sweet.

Delicious gold.

Honey!


This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!

Back to the story

A Day in My Paws

(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)

I see the way you’re staring, and I know you’re wondering what it’s like to be me, but it’s not so easy to sum up a day in my life, this wonderful life of luxury and tranquility, a life where I get to sleep through most of the day and no one bats an eye, where I wake up at the crack of dawn and sing my heart out for half an hour before I run outside to greet the day, where I spend the early morning chasing birds and butterflies and lizards around until I get tired and collapse on the sunlit porch for hours, where I’m constantly waited on by adoring subjects who will pet me and scratch behind my ears when I rub myself against their legs and who know to rub my belly exactly three times when I lie on my back because four is when I attack, where all I have to do is cry to make someone open the door for me and even wait the whole five minutes until I’m finally ready to come inside, where there’s never a shortage of giant oddly shaped scratching posts and high surfaces and objects to knock over, where I always get to curl up in a warm lap or a soft bed when it gets cold at night, and where I get all the food and comfort and unconditional love I could possibly want, a life so perfect that I could hardly sum it up in a day… except that I just did, and I can tell you it’s the best life in the world.


This story is based on What If? Exercise 90: “The Journey of the Long Sentence”. The exercise is to write a short short story that’s only one sentence long. The objective is to understand how we can shape our writing in a similar manner that our minds function, building a linear order for observations that often consist of many overlapping aspects. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!

Back to the story

Stop Pretending

Stop pretending. This isn’t you.

Why are you hiding? You think they’ll never see through the mask? You think they won’t like what they see when they do?

Pretending is exhausting, I know. It must be hard to keep up a facade all the time. That’s why you cry every night, isn’t it? That’s why you never let anyone in, why you never show that face to anyone but me. It’s easier to wear the mask when nobody knows what’s underneath.

You keep telling yourself that it’s better to play a part, to blend in, to be “one of them”. You think if you always tell them exactly what they want to hear, then maybe they’ll like you. You think their approval can make you happy. You’d rather feel accepted than dare to stand out by letting them see what’s on the inside, even if it chips away a little piece of you every day.

But I know you’re better than this.

Don’t give me that look. You know I’m right. The glass between us can’t protect you from the truth. That’s why you came looking for me, isn’t it? Why you always look for me in your weakest moments. You want me to help you, to encourage you, to save you. You want me to tell you what you already know.

But I can’t tell you anything, can I? Everything I’m telling you, you’re really telling yourself. I’m just the voice; the words are all yours. You have the power to save yourself.

That’s it. There’s that smile. You feel your confidence growing, don’t you? Hold onto that feeling. You know what you have to do now. You’ve always known.

Start listening to this voice in the mirror, the voice inside you.

Don’t be afraid anymore. It’s time to discard the mask for good. Get out there and show the world this face, your real face, the face of someone who’s comfortable in their skin and doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. Only then will you finally be free. Trust me, that’s the only face you’ll ever need to be happy.

Stop pretending to be somebody else, and start being you.

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