KITTENS (flash fiction)
“It’s raining kittens,” said Molly.
He didn’t believe her.
“Look out the window,” said Molly.
A kitten splatted against the glass.
“Holy shit,” said Derrick.
Kittens tumbled onto the driveway, the SUV, the yard, the surviving ones meowing and staggering in the grass. The sky was dark, the sun lost behind furry bodies. Derrick boarded up the windows.
“Must be the apocalypse,” he said.
“I would have expected something else,” Molly said. “Frogs. Locusts. Demons.”
“They might be demonic kittens.”
They listened to the kittens thumping on the roof.
“If it’s the end of the world,” Molly said, “then we should make love.”
He followed her into the bedroom.
Afterwards they watched the news. Kittens were falling on all the major cities. Nobody knew what it meant. Molly’s friend Kim dashed over from next door, holding a platter over her head. It caught three white kittens. Molly put down a dish of milk.
“Maybe it’s some kind of alien attack,” said Derrick.
He was pouring out shots of tequila. It seemed an appropriate response.
“Or terrorists,” Kim said. “It could be terrorists.”
Derrick looked Kim up and down.
They drank. Molly put on some music.
“If it’s the end of the world,” she said, “then we should dance.”
After a while Molly left the room.
Derek moved in. “I’ve always liked you,” he breathed in Kim’s ear.
“I think you’re totally gorgeous.”
He tried to kiss her. She pulled away, but not in time.
“What the hell?” Molly said from the doorway.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” Derrick said.
Kim said, “This is exactly what it looks like.”
“Kim,” Molly whispered.
The two women gazed at each other. An intensity gathered between them.
Molly said, “So which one of us do you want?”
“You.” Kim didn’t even hesitate. “I’ve always wanted you. You know that.”
“Wait a minute,” said Derrick.
“I’m sorry, honey.” Molly went to stand beside Kim. She took Kim’s hand. “I never meant to hurt you. I never intended for you to find out.”
“This is a joke,” said Derrick. “Right?”
Molly said, “The end of the world is no time for jokes.”
A sudden flurry of kittens rattled the windows. Derrick’s hands curled into fists. He forced himself to count to ten.
“And I want to spend the apocalypse with the person I truly love,” Molly added.
“Well then,” said Derrick, his eyes moving from one woman to the other. “Any, um, any chance for a threesome?”
Kim said to Molly, “I think it’s time to leave.”
Molly nodded and gathered her things. On their way out the door, Kim stopped in front of Derrick. Her expression was not unkind. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not you. It’s me. I don’t find you remotely attractive.”
“Good bye, Derrick,” said Molly. “You were good to me, and I enjoyed having sex with you. I wish you the best.”
He stood by the door and watched them thrash their way through the falling bodies to the SUV. Doors opened and slammed. The vehicle backed out of the driveway, crunching across a carpet of kittens, then turned into the street.
They were gone.
Derrick felt a new aloneness settle over him. He found the other bottle of tequila and sat at the kitchen table. The three white kittens tottered around his feet and mewed for attention. Soon he would get up and check the Internet, search for theories and explanations, see what they were saying on Twitter. People wanted answers. You always wanted answers. But already, nudging the kittens away with his feet and swigging deeply from the bottle, Derek knew that there wouldn’t be any.