First in a Series on Claudeae Starr

Have you found your Valentine today? Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. And Happy Single's Awareness Day (s.a.d.), single people!

I've got a little story here for all of you, my readers.

Inspiration leads to a juicy creativity and bleeding ink. This shortie is one of those babies. Done several years back.

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Tell Me


If a needle falls to the ground, shall I hear of it drop?

I saw a tabby cat lick its paw in my immaculate white kitchen, startled at the sight of me, the cookie jar slid off when catty jerked.

“Oh noooooooo!” I leaped, landing on my underside, hoping to catch the 1964 vintage cookie jar of grandma’s. My outstretched arms and open palm was a second late. Smash, went the end of the jar. I saw it all in slow-mo: a silver sliver came turning in the air, in hyberbola, catching much of the light, I was awestruck. I closed my eyes and in an ant-bite sensation, it hit me, pricked the tip of my index finger, blood stained it, a needle pin.

Meow.

The white furry tabby cat purred, and rushed out through the dog-pass hole of the door. She peered back at me and purred a second time, calling.

The morning chill of dawn shivered me. Something about the Gaelic harpsichord music seeping through the early morn mood moved me.Heaven’s music on earth, it must be.

In a distant, a horse huffed and galloped away. I could sense it was just in the prairie outside my kitchen. Must it be the farmers passing by?

Tabby brushed my foot and skirted away. I tracked her down with my eyes: all was quiet and serene, the morning dew gathered on theedelweiss and the baby’s breath wildly growing around. The early lightwas yet coming out. From the horizon is the expanse of mount Diwata range, bluish from the reflection of light, the immediate surrounding in fields of green and gold dashed with white spots from the tiny flowers. Nothing unusual except for white furry tabby cat running around wildly from a distance.

It wasn’t yet near-day, and the colour white gives the field of greens a solid contrast. The plaintive music of the bagpipes from the CD player on my lanai reverberated. I could never be wrong with the kiss of the cold breeze that smacked on my face.

My eyes scanned the vast field of edelweiss, baby’s breath and wild grass: something white lay where tabby cat purred and purred.

I folded a quarter of my rather long white pyjamas, my upper white sleeping chemise was half-open, blood-stained. Without a beat, I ran towards the white mound. As I moved closer, I realized it to be of a person’s. I quickened my pace; barefoot, unmindful of the thorns I stepped on my way.

I reached the misty site on the break of dawn. Tabby nudged me.

There I saw her lay on her stomach upon the edelweiss, almost lifeless. Her frock was fairy-like and lightly white. Despite that, the look of tranquility on her smooth even-toned face. Lovely. I wonder where she came from and whether she was still alive.

I picked her up on my arms and for the first time I stared at the entirety of her face. She opened her oriental eyes when my finger smoothened her thin brow. She murmured her name softly, but I didn’t catch it before she fainted.

Her fragile hands crossed her chest. There I noticed a silver bracelet with an engraving of probably her name: Claudeae Starr. #