"I don't know how to start this", she moaned. "I never know how to start stuff, and then, once it's started, I don't know how to finish them." The Perfectly Cosmic Cat smiled. She had created the world in Chaos, and this was how humans should look at their lives. She swatted at the human's legs and demanded her Personal Catnip, but was satisfied with the Pounce, Cherry gave her instead. Because of the Pounce, Cherry was named, even before she fully existed on paper. Cosmic smiled. This was how humans should be created, she thought. They should exist only for the full worship of the Porcelain Chair and the Perfectly Cosmic Cat which should be in charge of them.

She was a bit of order in the Chaos left by the Perfectly Cosmic Cat. This meant that she thought neat and orderly thoughts in a chaotic world. Of course this didn't fit in, and all of her projects were doomed to disaster. Her marriage, for instance. She'd been married for years and years to the same faithful guy who never seemed to get it right. Which was ok with her, as she never seemed to get it right either. It was a far cry from her mother, who shook her head in puzzlement and disgust. Well she shook her head as far as someone who was dead could shake their head. She couldn't think long thoughts, which was part of the reason she was still dead. The dead couldn't think their way out of their graves.

No matter, the kid couldn't get it right. Her therapist was puzzled, her friends were puzzled, The Perfectly Cosmic Cat was puzzled, even her mother was puzzled. She had gone through two bad relationships into a boring, but happy marriage. That wasn't how it was supposed to be done. She was supposed to be knocked around by her parents (they at least started it out right) then have at least two abusive relationships and a couple of battered but exciting marriages. Cherry couldn't even destroy her life correctly. The Perfectly Cosmic Cat had almost given up on her. Her therapist was about to give up on her. Her mother had already given up on her and died. Well she died a long time ago, but had already given up on her at the time.

Unbeknownst to Cherry, her husband was about ready to give up on something, but he wasn't sure what it was. He was often confused by all that happened around him, not the least of which was why he didn't have a name of his own. He was always Cherry's husband, her husband, the husband, the faithful guy, and whatever else people called him. He wanted a name, but didn't know how to ask for one. He couldn't think long thoughts either, which was why he hadn't demanded a name, and didn't dwell on the matter long enough to organize a demand for such a precious commodity. The Perfectly Cosmic Cat tended to think of him as being a moving scratching post, or another lap to shed fur on. He was just there and she might as well make use of him. This sort of matched Cherry's opinion of him as well. He was the sort of hapless type that just got sat on all the time.

Cherry's mother, or Mom, she wasn't picky, often wondered where Cherry's husband had come from. Since she couldn't hold two thoughts in her head at the same time, these wonderings didn't last long, but were frequent enough that she even remembered them from time to time. This in itself almost justified his existence. Cherry often thought about him, but then she was not only capable of long thoughts, but could keep more than one thought in her head at any one time. Thus she was thinking about her husband at the same time as she was thinking about feeding The Perfectly Cosmic Cat, worshiping at the Porcelain Chair, and deciding what to cook for dinner.

She sat down on the porcelain chair and decided to feed the husband "Whisker Lickin's," cook a tofu burger for The Perfectly Cosmic Cat, (I said she was capable of thinking more than one thought at a time, I didn't say she got them right) and organize her life. "I need to break away," she thought between prayers. "I need to find a way to find out who I am and why I married my husband. I need to find a way to make me happy instead of having to do most of my thinking at the Porcelain Chair."

At her feet, The Perfectly Cosmic Cat glared unhappily at her. She didn't feel as though Cherry was putting enough emphasis on her prayers. This must be corrected. Cosmic leaped into Cherry's lap and sat in offense mode. "Horka, horka, horka," The Perfectly Cosmic Cat horked.

"Hork!!" Cherry replied, pushing Cosmic off of her lap. The Perfectly Cosmic Cat neatly horked a hairball onto Cherry's feet. A couple of seconds later, Cherry horked her own hairball to join the one donated by The Perfectly Cosmic Cat. Happy with the new quality of Cherry's worship, The perfectly Cosmic Cat sat back and watched as Cherry quickly finished her prayers at the Chair, and bent down to clean the hork off of her feet. After she'd bent in prayer at the chair, Cherry hobbled carefully over to the sink to finish removing both offerings to the Porcelain Chair.

"You're right Cosmic, my life is a hairball waiting to come up," she told the sneering cat.

Copyright © Pam Shirk
March 10, 2002