For Sonya’s Three Line Tales prompt. A cat story.
Raymond’s old lady hadn’t stirred that morning, not even when he licked her face and meowled very loudly in her ear, and he couldn’t get into the plastic container where she kept the biscuits.
He wriggled through the cat flap and whisked his tail in indecision—wall or tree?
The wall led a long way, longer than Raymond had ever been before, but he knew where he was going, could smell it as soon as he left the confines of the garden, his new life—he had always wanted to be a ship’s cat.