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Sitting at my computer today. An orange cat leapt up on the table and said “Meow.”

I’d never seen her before. “What do you want?”

She jumped to the floor, strolled to the kitchen and stood by the refrigerator. I followed and opened the fridge. “All I have is fruit, vegetables and champagne.”

She looked in for a moment, then walked down the hallway. Just as she left through the front door she flicked her tail.

I think that’s the feline version of flipping the bird.

 

 

 

Bill Butler was born and raised in Manhattan, and didn’t leave New York State until age seventeen when he joined the army and was stationed in Anchorage, Alaska. Years later, he returned to New York, and worked as a private detective while earning a few degrees. He eventually immigrated to Scottsdale, Arizona, where he worked as a Rehabilitation Counselor. After years of helping persons with a disability become gainfully employed he decided to write. Although writing for several years, he recently started submitting for publication. His three novel-length manuscripts are going through the seemingly never-ending revision and editing process.

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