Fictober 2022 | DAY 5 | Deep Water Prompt #2606

Photo by Marius Zetzmann on Unsplash

❝There’s a spirit sparkling just above the barn.

“It’s beautiful,” I say.

“It’s blinding me,” says Mama, pushing me out the door. “Go shoo it elsewhere.”❞

Mama’s always got her priorities straight, unlike me. I get distracted, sticking my nose places just to sniff the different scents out. Which is, she says fondly, only to be expected, and I’ll grow out of it as I grow up—or at least, learn to be wiser about it. 

I pad towards the side of the barn, where it’s crooked enough for me to scamper up the walls to the roof with ease. The spirit is still where I left it, and it doesn’t shift as I stalk towards it, squinting my eyes against its brightness and moving carefully, conscious of the long drop on either side, the breeze tugging at me.

“Spirit!” I call up to it.

The spirit flickers and flashes, a conflagration of floating light, like a rainbow that is also a cloud that is also a ball of heatless fire. Like the sun, but far closer and prettier. It doesn’t really move, but I get the sense that it’s looking at me, even though it doesn't have eyes like mine or any other creature’s eyes that I know of.

KITTEN, it…says. It doesn’t have a mouth either, but I hear it anyway. 

“That’s me,” I reply, sitting and curling my tail around my paws. “Mama wants you to go. You’re distracting.”

HM, the spirit says. PRESUMPTUOUS OF YOU BOTH.

“We’re cats,” I reply.

INDEED, the spirit says. It almost sounds amused.

The swirling colours roil a bit and then settle, dimming to just a faint sparkle, like it’s been clouded. 

BETTER? it asks me. I’VE SETTLED HERE AND I DON’T WISH TO MOVE.

I tilt my head, studying it, trying to imagine what Mama’s verdict would be if she were here. I didn’t shoo it away…but it also isn’t blinding anymore.

“Better,” I answer. “...Whatcha doing up here anyway?”

WAITING, the spirit says. It definitely sounds amused.

I reach a paw carefully towards a wispy tendril, but it fades like mist before I can touch it. “Waiting for what?”

A SNACK, the spirit says.

The fur on my back rises, my ears pressing back. “I’m not a snack,” I hiss, making sure to show it my teeth, flexing my claws so they dig into the wood.

NO, the spirit says, YOU ARE NOT. YOU ARE A KITTEN. 

Oh. Well, that’s true. Still, it occurs to me that this spirit is maybe more than just beautiful, and anyway, Mama will want me to come down and help her with today’s tasks.

“I'm going now,” I declare, and with one last long look at it, I turn and scamper back the way I came.

I’m not running away. I’m not afraid. I just…don’t want to be up here anymore.

Fictober is a challenge where writers respond to a prompt a day for the whole of October.
This year's prompts are from Deep Water Prompts on tumblr.