Tameril's Story

Tameril sighed as he walked down the street. A talking cat with no wizard, great. His life was in the dumps, no home, no wizard, he was just a freak cat that could talk. Although...walking through the markets of Bastille always helped him out, the different smells brightening his mood a bit as he looked around. Hearing the fish seller he gave a slight grin. Going up above the man selling the fish before jumping onto his head and playfully nomming on his hair. Yelling as he fell onto the man's head."DEATH FROM ABOVE!!!!" Maybe if he was lucky enough a wizard would be able to hear him and he could become a wizard's cat. That would be awesome!

'And you shall get your fish, just come here.' He put him on his back, bought several fish, letting Tameril choose what he wanted to eat. The fish seller was much too busy with his jaw he didn't ask questions, maybe he'd wake up that night, reflecting about what he had seen and heard and then start to see the world as a completely different, wondrous and mystical place, he would eventually all at once give up his business and start to sell balloons in different countries, travel to places he'd never dreamed of existed.

Nadim put an anchovy in front of Tamerils paws: 'This is for the ride, you'll get the rest later. Luckily, you're still a young one, my old cat weighed about six kilos, ouf!'. His flat was right around the corner. He still had to do some groceries, but there were more pressing things to take care of. He opened his flat, which had only one room, was not in the best of shapes and a little crammed. It was central and Nadim payed a fortune for the rent, but one day this all would be an advantage somehow. There was a couch, an old lampshade, several vintage pieces of furniture and a massive yucca palm tree, in short, it was a cats paradise. The colors ochre and green clearly dominated.

He went to the kitchen to cut out the bones and put the fillets into a green bowl which he deposited on the floor. Then he pulled back a black curtain from the wall and out came a vast conspiracy wall, linking together photos and newspaper articles into a chaotic net. 'Enjoy your meal!' he uttered with a dreamy voice, whereupon he plunged himself into the sofa staring thoughtfully at the peculiar wall.

All at once he got up impulsively to get a closer look at what was in front of him. There were several photographs of men and women, that were possibly wizards, possibly something else entirely. In reality, he was still a little convinced of the whole alien invasion theory. Which of course did nothing good for his reputation.

'There's something missing...Oh. Now I start to talk like I'm on TV! I should really stay less on my own.' But who would understand all this nonsense and him being quite the loony sometimes? Maybe that guy from the editorial staff at parisvoice, Cole. He had always proven to be a good listener and seemed to understand his pathways of thinking, although he had never added anything to it..., a decent man. And a hell of a confectioner! Oh those wonderful toothaches...
Suddenly his funky smartphone beeped Michael Jacksons Thriller...he took it out of his back pocket and read:

Hey, dude. Listen, I gotta talk to you ASAP. You at home?

'Speak of the ... no that's mean, it's a good friend Tameril! And you're going to meet him.'
He wrote:

No problem. Got myself a day off, come over!

'I hope he brings something nice to eat, because I spent all of today's money on your fish, dear cat! Savour it!' And with a smile he thudded back on the couch, daydreaming about...well, ...aliens.