While I’m working on one million and one things, I thought I’d repost an old piece of fiction I did on my livejournal a while ago.  So here it is again in its entirety.  Enjoy.


Dr. Rowling hears the rhythm of ice as it blankets the box. He feels the pressure valves churn and the cat clawing its way. Vital signs are fading into a sleep state. The box settles at absolute zero. There is no movement, no motion, as death is induced.

The ice is thawed. The cat is gone. the doctor opens the box and sees the cat frozen, smile perfectly in place. The doctor wished for something less predictable, but admits to himself that it’s a good thing this happen. He always mistrusted cats. They always smiled at everything, as if the world was a joke they only understood. This one has stopped laughing.

The cat is dead.

The cat stops laughing. Curiosity fills him. Something had happened. He remembered scratching and clawing and trying to escape the chill. And then…

He woke up cold and exhausted. It jumped out and proceeded to eat some of the food left behind for it. He needed a nap. It had been too long since he slept last.

Something was different though. The master didn’t see him jump out. Didn’t respond to its cries or

It’s master couldn’t see him anymore. He wondered why that thought occured to him, before finding a nice corner beckoning him. Exhausted, he stretched his body, enjoying the ease of which he moved himself and curled up to the corner. He slept, dreaming of mice, catnip and female felines to chase in the night.

In between, not alive and dead, the cat sits and waits inside.

Alone, schroder feels the smile die. Feels the smile come alive.

he smiles. he’s dead. he sleeps. He dreams