Jackie the cat was not unusual in her neighbourhood. She was, after all, just another cat in an area full of cat-lovers and poets. It must be said, though, that there was no cat in her neighbouring houses that was quite as black as Jackie. Her coat was silky like an Indian princesses’ dress, and she was quite proud of it. The little white tuft on her chest contrasted her blackness, as did her petite white mittens, though her cat-friends would often joke that one had fallen off when she was a kitten, as her back left paw was completely black. Her owner, one Fiona Gold, lived alone, with few male suitors calling, and fewer still friends either. She left the house seldom, though when she did she would be gone for what Jackie considered to be a rather long time; though it must be said that for Jackie, a long time usually meant going an hour or more without food.
Now and again fancy cars would show up at Fiona’s doorstep and well-dressed gentlemen and ladies would go into her house with clipboards, pens, figures and coffee. Jackie though that Fiona provided the coffee, but she couldn’t understand why the people would drink such a vile-tasting drink. Jackie had once tried some when Fiona hadn’t been looking, and had spent an hour after that eating grass just to get the taste out.
One particular day dawned quite like any other, with the sun shining as it always did, and the clouds floating in their usual place. Jackie began the day with sleeping until 11 a.m., then stretched, and nosed her way out of her cat-box. The smell of coffee greeted Jackie’s nose, and she wrinkled it in disgust. Slinking around the dining room, her mistress glanced down upon her, murmuring her affectionate hello. Jackie skilfully weaselled her way out of an iron grip as Fiona grasped at her, and strode out of doors into the garden. There she was greeted by the now-too-warm morning sun and the garden gnomes, who were by this time in their usual sunbathing poses, soaking up the sun-beams, as were the dandelions on the grass (which had not been mowed for some time). Harry the gnome greeted her with a curt bow.
“Good mornin’ young leddy, and a good day to ye,” he said. “Did ye have a beautiful sleep this mornin’?”
“Good morning Harry,” said Jackie. “I had a lovely sleep this morning. I never see you sleeping. Do you ever sleep in, or even sleep at all?”
“Oh no,” said Harry, “Me as a gnome never gets to sleep in, eh Bob?”
Bob turned around.
“Naw, it’s a law o’ life, which we never get to sleep in! We is always needed here as lawn ornaments, never getting a day off and all. It’s a cruel life, to be sure, but needed, cos if we weren’t ‘ere all day, who would be, eh? Never think of that do they? It’s always up to the gnomes, init? Want someone to stand around all day in a painful pose? Don’t ever ask the dwarves, or even the elves, it’s always the gnomes! “Bloomin’ cruel world it is, if you ask me. And it’s not as if we get paid, is it? Oh no, it might as well be slave labour! It is if you ask me! I mean, ‘ow much would it ‘urt if the manufacturers gave us some legs which weren’t clay or whateva’. Some nice fleshy legs would be great, but oh no, it’s gotta be the hard-wearing china clay doesn’t it? I can’t believe it, of all the inconsiderate…”
But here his conversation ended, as Jackie, thoroughly bored with his drivel, had wandered off, into another part of the garden. Here was a nice shady patch, under the trees, far away from those funny-talking gnomes. She wondered what to do, then decided to take another nap. It was cool underneath the tree, and the birds were singing. Jackie wondered whether any of them would make a nice brunch, but in the end the cons outweighed the pros and she settled down for a nice sleep.
Jackie awoke with a start. Around her was a sweet smell of candy and honey. The air around her was damp and pink-misted, and there were many rainbow-coloured mushrooms dotted here and there. The gnomes were running free and wild, and were cheering as they went. There was a stream cutting through the middle of the garden, and on it were tiny ships manned by insects, having boat races. Hundreds of beetles, lady-bugs, grasshoppers, praying-mantises, and all manner of bees and wasps clambered at the borders of the river. They were all cheering on the boats, as they raced down to the finish line.
On the cobblestone path there were rabbits having a hopscotch match, and surrounding it was a stadium of grass with mice crouched on the stands, cheering and waving small flags. The house was huge, and made completely out of fish and ice-cream. Fiona was in her car, made out of gingerbread muffins, with a rather large woman, driving slowly down the driveway to the main road. As they rounded the corner purple fumes and clouds of stars shot out of the exhaust pipe and into the air. With eyes wide as saucers, Jackie brought herself into a standing position, and viewed the area. With disbelief she wandered through the forest of candy canes and alighted on the bridge with the marshmallow lanterns. The fireflies buzzed around her head and dived in what seemed to be an aerial game of Luftwaffe vs RAF. As she watched, they dipped and cajoled in mid-air, some catching fire and screaming to the ground, exploding on impact, and others wheeling about into the sunset… But where was it? When she looked up, the sun hung over the veranda, and when she looked the other way, it was setting over the pond. But then the moon appeared next to the pond-sun, and then ate it all up. It grew and grew until it covered the entire horizon, and Jackie could see the seas on the moon and all the tiny ships and ship-harbours bustling with activity. Jackie cringed as it continued to grow, and grow, and grow. Suddenly, with a crash and rumble, the moon collided with the earth. A huge mouth appeared, complete with a smiling face, and began crunching. Jackie noticed a ship sailing underneath the Man’s nose, so she jumped and alighted on its mast. The ship was all in white, as were the sailors, and the mast and ship were all in a deathly grey. As the ship sailed upon the silver sea, Jackie looked down to see the golden fish in the water. Underneath were castles and fields, as well as strange people who were half-people and half-fish. There were also huge silver whales which ate golden fish in single gulps. The ship shortly sailed into the harbour, where the colonial moon-people waved from the docks to their loved ones departing in huge junks, clippers, and galleons. As Jackie’s ship was moored to the harbour, the sailors clambered onto the wharf, and their family and friends hugged them and took them home. Suddenly, there was a gasping, and everyone looked up to see Mars circling above, getting larger and larger. Jackie looked and saw an alien world upon the face of Mars, with bustling space-ports and space-ships jetting to and fro. A huge arm reached out from a volcano and grabbed the Moon, squeezing it. People screamed, and men shot with muskets in vain, but the hand squeezed, and the Moon broke into a million pieces. Jackie jumped onto one of the fingers, and scampered along. Suddenly, she lost balance, and tumbled into the volcano. Spinning round and round, she glimpsed unholy beasts and all kinds of horrors, until falling into the lava.
Really awake this time, Jackie looked around, startled. The sun was shining, and the gnomes arguing once again. Fiona was calling, and the birds were still singing. With a yawn, Jackie peacefully waddled off to the kitchen to eat her dinner just as the pink mist began to curl around the tree-trunks.
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