22......

Continued.......

'When my cats aren’t happy, I’m not happy. Not because I care about their mood, but because I know they’re just sitting there, thinking up ways to get even.'

-Percy Bysshe Shelley



Genghis Khat lay heavily on Jamie's legs, purring loudly like a ginger Vespa scooter.

Marta glanced up from her laptop, where she was trying to unravel the tangled mystery of The Spotlight. 'Do you suppose it's the number of views you get?' she asked Jamie, 'Or the amount of stars?'

Jamie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 'Bribery, more than likely. Your cat', he complained, 'still hates me. He keeps sticking his claws into my thighs.'

'Aww, that's him showing affection,' said Marta, 'He adores you. But just push him off if he's annoying you.'

'No, no, he's a lovely little chap. I'm really very fond of him.'

Genghis dug his claws in a little deeper. 'Really?' he thought, 'Is that why you call me Fatso Fishbreath whenever she goes out of the room?'

Marta was still wondering about Blip. 'Maybe you need hearts too.'

Genghis directed his luminous green gaze at Marta. 'And maybe you need some brains.' His claws went in and out of Jamie's skin, like turbo-charged sewing machine needles. 'Would you look at these jeans, woman? They've got dog hair on them. White dog hair. Just like the white dog that that other woman of his had....'