Cat Call

So I’m just sitting here at my desk—me, a Wild Cherry Pepsi, an ashtray, and Big Jim’s ashes, because when Mr. Shakes brought them home from the vet, I didn’t know where else to put them, except beside where I usually am, which is where Jim always was. All of a sudden, there’s this sound…and it’s the weird noise Jim used to make when he stretched and yawned. It totally sent a shiver up my spine. I glanced at the tin of ashes. “Oh, lord—Jimmy’s haunting me!”

It was actually just a Yahoo IM audible my friend Joe sent me—a sound I’ve heard a million times, but only through the speakers. This time it came through the headphones sitting on the floor, which Mr. Shakes left plugged in. An acoustical feat that turned an animated dog saying “Whaaaaaaddup?” into the exact sound of Jim’s yawns and raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

I’m relieved that it turns out I’m not hallucinating or immediately in need of respite at the loony hatch, but it would have been kind of cool to be haunted by my old friend.

Shakesville is run as a safe space. First-time commenters: Please read Shakesville's Commenting Policy and Feminism 101 Section before commenting. We also do lots of in-thread moderation, so we ask that everyone read the entirety of any thread before commenting, to ensure compliance with any in-thread moderation. Thank you.

blog comments powered by Disqus