Dispatch From The Commune #12 – Dude, Where’s My Itinerant Artists?

We’re right here!  Sorry it’s taken so long for an update.  I know, I know, you’ve been chomping at the bit for more info.  Here it is:

LIZ has gotten her cast off, and she is hobbling around the streets of Brooklyn in her supportive boot like a pro!  However, EMILY’S having foot surgery this weekend, and will be hobbling about.  As one puts down the crutches, the other picks them up.  It’s either crazy happenstance, or some kind of intense crutch fetish they’ve got going on.  Liz has also been kicking the ass of schoolwork,  and Emily recently received an A on her first law school memo!  We’re all super proud!

Sadly, we just found out last night that Liz’s grandfather passed away, which is very sad indeed.  Liz will be going home to Scranton for the funeral, so if everyone would please send her loving and strengthening vibes, that would be great.  He was 93, had a penchant for fedoras, and apparently actually rode the rails in his youth.  He lived more life than most people, and if you’ve gotta go, that would be the way to do it – after a long, bustling life like that.

However, there is happy news: LIZ IS MOVING BACK INTO THE COMMUNE IN JANUARY! We will be very excited to have her back.  And it will be just in time for her birthday! 

ADAM has been leading a very happy dating life.   In other news, he’s been writing up a storm as he works on his Faulknerian story project.

He’s also joined a writing workshop group which was the brainchild Commune Cohort, JEAN, which also includes TERESA and ALEX.  The four of them have already had a really successful first meeting, and are meeting again next weekend.  Pay attention, bitches.  It’s the new Algonquin Round Table. (and by the way, the new catchphrase is “Whose B do I have to J to get a story published around here!“  Thank you, Teresa, for your colorful use of language.)

Speaking of TERESA, she too has been writing up a storm, and has taken a hiatus from non-fiction about pop culture in favor of her fiction projects, namely a novel, a short story in its final stages of revision, and The Pack.  She plans on hibernating this winter.  Actually, it’s more accurate to say she’ll be in a cocoon until spring, when she will emerge as a butterfly….that…has…stories…written and stuff….She continues to try to keep her day job from devouring her soul.  Every day is a battle.  Yesterday evening, Adam accompanied her to the Fashion For Dummies book party, which she attended in support of the book’s author, and her friend, Pierre Lehu. They planned  their own future book parties as they hobnobbed with publishing mucky-mucks.  Teresa spoke to a certain editor who had expressed interest in a non-fiction book idea she had, and the editor told her how she could refine it to make it more salable.  Editor seems not full of bullshit and actually interested.  Teresa is cautiously hopeful.

LINDSAY has been living and breathing the two little children she’s homeschooling.  She’s been having a bit of trouble with the older boy in particular, which has been a bit discouraging for her.  But the parents are trying to figure out how to provide her with the help she needs, and they value her tremendously.  Now, Lindsay’s just wondering when all that travel she was promised is supposed to be starting.  Life is getting a bit stifling for her in Liz’s tiny room, and as she was never supposed to be there for this long, she’s taken to breaking out of it by sleeping in the living room.  Soon, there will be Italy and Hong Kong, though, right?  Right??

DIANA and SEBASTIEN have become the house’s resident old people, going to bed at 8PM, waking up at the butt-crack of dawn, and cooking meals together as they discuss butter’s many fascinating uses.    Of course, their crazy schedules are due to their jobs.  And they can still be heard having sex in their apartment, so if they are indeed old people, at least their hip replacements are functional.  They seem to be going strong!  What’s it been…over 5 months-ish?  Way to make a sublet work for you, Sebastien! 

BRIAN seems to have adapted nicely to life in the house, though he only emerges from his room rarely, as he spends a lot of time in there working, because he’s the only one in the house who’s actually EARNING A LIVING from his writing.  Yup, he’s finished that book on trustafarianism that he was working on, and he continues to write for a great kids’ website even as he’s hobnobbing with TV producers and giving them his resume on a roll of toilet paper.  Don’t ask.

Tune in next time for more exciting adventures (or at least some pretty cool updates) from The Commune!

- Head Commune-ist

Propaganda

Posted by ADAM

I’m a Trekkie. But not one of those Trekkies who can speak Klingon. Up until today I’ve thought those people are totally lame. Then I saw this — a propaganda video for the Klingon Empire that a totally awesome fan posted online last week.

And, yes, the narration can actually be translated into more or less what the subtitles say (independant experts have confirmed it at Trekmovie.com). Whoever made this video has studied their Klingon vocabulary and grammar — and, for the first time in history, the fact that it is actually Klingon has made everything more awesome.

Not to be outdone, the Federation released this simple, to-the-point propaganda video in response.

Can I just say how nice it is to see Trekkies doing awesome, funny fan videos that poke fun at their show like the fans of other shows often do. You know, instead of being scary obsessed with every single detail and taking it all way too seriously. Way to go, guys.

Brilliance

Posted by ADAM

Today Emily and I had a brilliant idea for a summer blockbuster that will shatter all box office records. It will be called:

---

VS.

Alien Vs. Panda

You all know who my money’s on.

Sex With 900 Men in Nine Years (or, Where Does She Find the TIME?)

Posted by TERESA

So, I was listening to Elvis Duran and the Z Morning Zoo this morning, as I am wont to do most mornings, and they were talking about this story.  Apparently, a woman in England “confessed” to having slept with 900 men in nine years.

My first question?

Who the hell did she “confess” this to, and why did she want to make this news??

My second question?

Where did she find the time??

However, what bothered me most was the way it was being discussed on the radio, both by the DJs and the people calling in.  I’m sure you already know how it went.  Hell, you might even have chimed in the same way yourself!  There was a string of calls saying she was a slut, but more than that, that she was “disturbed” or had “psychological problems.”  My absolute favorite quote (and by favorite, I mean that I wanted to punch the guy in the face) was when this guy called in and said “It would even be a bit abnormal if a guy did that!”

Check that word choice, people:

It would even be a bit abnormal if a guy did that.

First, let me get this out of the way….900 men is A LOT.  A LOT.  Like, way more than your usual amount, and I’m including porn stars and gang bangers when I say that.  That many people definitely increases your risk for all sorts of STDs and pregnancy no matter how much protection you use, or what kind of pill you’re on.  I mean, that’s just a matter of numbers.

But what bothered me was the way people were talking about this woman.  First, there was the knee-jerk reaction in calling her a slut, to which I say….so?  OK, so she’s a slut.  Now what?  People think that pointing out the fact that a woman has slept with many men is the ultimate insult.  As if what she’s done is, of course, inherently morally wrong.  As if the discussion stops there.  My next question would be, “Why?”  And no, “It just IS” is not an answer.  (If you’d like to answer that question in the comments, feel free)  I, for one, don’t think it is.  No one who called in actually had a reason why what she did was wrong, and every assumption they made was proved wrong by the story:

- she was never abused as a child and was, in fact, raised in a Catholic home with Catholic values and sent to a Catholic school.

- she always used protection (and never got an STD or pregnant)

- the sex was always consentual and initiated by her

- there was nothing in the story pointing to the fact that she actually did have clinical psychological problems, nor do any of her quotes lead me to believe that.

John Bell, one of the DJs on Z100 who’s USUALLY the voice of reason, said “Someone who sleeps with that many people doesn’t do it for pleasure or because they like sex.  Clearly, there’s something wrong.”

Clearly?  Really?  Is this according to your years of psychological study?  Cause, I know lots of people – women, specifically – who just REALLY LIKE SEX THAT MUCH.  And *gasp* they prioritize sex over having a relationship.

EEK!  THE HORROR!

What bothered me about the whole thing was that every response people gave to this story was rooted in the idea that women shouldn’t have lots of sex.  That a “normal” woman doesn’t want it that much, and if she expresses wanting it that much, then “clearly” there’s something wrong with her.  Meanwhile, while this would “even” be a lot for a man, clearly it would be more permissible if it were.  Hell, if this had been a guy, it probably wouldn’t have been news! (Though someone might have taken out a congratulatory ad)

That’s the other thing – the idea that she shouldn’t have done that, because no guy will want her after that.  Because men don’t like it when women are “tainted goods” and would never want to be in a relationship with a woman who’s been with that many men.    So, we’re back to the old chestnut that women have to control and compose their behavior to suit what men want so that they can land one and be in a stable relationship.

News flash: not every woman wants or cares if she’s in a relationship.

News flash #2: not all guys care how many partners a woman’s had, and some actually see a very experienced woman as a plus, because it means his sex life with her will be hot

News flash #3: lots of women, I would say MOST women, enjoy sex.  Like, as much as men. (*again, gasp*)

News flash #4 – and this is important – TO HELL WITH MEN!  I know a lot of you reading this are thinking “Teresa, obviously there’s a double-standard, but that’s just how it is, and if a woman wants a man she can’t be advertising her numbers like that.”

The people who’ve said that to me DRIVE ME CRAZY!  First of all, just because that’s “how it is”, doesn’t mean it’s right.  It was once common for there to be separate “White” and “Colored” bathrooms, too.  It was wrong then, and it’s wrong now.  If you live your life according to the way it is without also pursuing life as you want it to be, nothing will ever change for the better.  Any positive (or negative) changes in the world happen because enough people believe they should.  That’s all it takes, but apparently, it’s the most difficult thing to have happen.

So, say it with me: women like sex, too.

Sometimes they like it more than having a boyfriend. This should not be news.  Sometimes they have a boyfriend and that boyfriend lets them sleep with other men (and the women let their boyfriends sleep with other people, too). This should not be news.  Sometimes women don’t have miserable first times. This should not be news.  Sometimes women pursue sex! THIS SHOULD NOT BE NEWS.

My only problem with this woman is that she allowed it to be a news story.  Who did she tell, and why did she feel the need to make it public?  The sluts I know (and I use the term with love, and they know that) are all also extremely classy and discreet.  They are ethical people who are  open about how they live, but they never shove it in people’s faces, never use it as party story fodder unless requested, and generally act (and dress) tastefully.  And they treat their sex partners, whether they are in a relationship with them, or it’s a one night stand, with respect.  Just because someone has a lot of sex doesn’t mean they have to make themselves a sideshow attraction.

So this woman is a slut, but I have more of a problem with her being a media whore.  I think that’s more indicative of the aforementioned “psychological problems” than the sex is in and of itself.

What do you all think? I’d love to hear from guys in particular.  If you found out that the girl you were dating successfully and exclusively had slept with 900 guys before you, how would you react, and why?

**ADDENDUM: I’m sure if any of you reading this actually sat down and counted everyone you’ve ever had sexual encounters with – be it boyfriends or one night stands, be they full-on intercourse, oral sex, or any variation thereof – I think you might surprise yourself with your own number.

BREAKING NEWS FROM THE COMMUNE!

LIZ GOT HER CAST OFF TODAY!!

What’s up with physical therapy?  Will her leg ever NOT look like that of a starving child on another continent?  When will she get back to karaoke?  And most importantly….

IS SHE RETURNING TO THE COMMUNE?!

Stay tuned for further developments…

- Head Commune-ist

Copyright Adventures

Posted by ADAM

I’m sending three stories I wrote to publications this month and two of them weren’t protected by copyright. I’ve registered a number of copyrights in the past but I’ve always done it by mail. However, recently, the Copyright Office has been taking longer and longer to get back — the first time I registered a copyright, in 2004, they replied in four months, but for my latest copyright registration, in 2008, it took 19 months to receive my certificate (I just got it last month, in fact).

So I decided to get out of the dark ages and register my copyrights electronically. I created an account at Copyright.gov, a pretty standard online form — except that for some reason I couldn’t create a password that it would accept. I accessed the site’s help menu and found some information that I think should have been displayed a bit more prominently…

- Minimum password length must be 8 characters and consist of at least 2 alpha characters, 1 number and 1 special character [$, %, &, *, #] (but not an ampersand – &).
- A password must have no consecutive repeated characters.
- A password must not include your user name or any part thereof.
- A password must not include the names of a spouse, children, pets or one’s own name.
- A password must not include any regional sports teams or players.
- A password must not include any office symbols.
- A password must not include your social security number or any subset of your social security number that is more than a single number.
- A password must not include words that can be found in any dictionary, whether English or any language.
- A password must not be any of the 11 most recently used passwords for the account.

First of all, who designed this list of requirements and have they sought psychiatric treatment for their raging paranoia? In addition to this list of rules which will surely result in a password that can’t be cracked by anyone — including the person who thought it up but will be completely unable to remember it — the system periodically e-mails you and requires you to change your password.

Also, who writes a list of requirements like this and puts the teeny, tiny requirement that you can’t use any word from any language at the very end, after having first taken the time to mentioned the names of pets and professional athletes?

Finally, if your system is going to have so many disqualifying requirements, it would be really nice if it didn’t make you fill in two more pages of forms before letting you know your password isn’t sufficient. It would also be nice if it told you WHY your password wasn’t good enough, because I tried ten more times but couldn’t figure it out until it suddenly dawned on me — it was the vowels!

“A” and “I” are words in English. “E” and “O” are words in Italian. “Y” is a word in Spanish. You can’t use these letters at all in your password. I thought that solved it for sure, but I still had to try three more times to come up with a password — eliminating all the vowels had created one case of repeating consonants and put together a pair of letters that appeared in my user name.

Finally I came up with a completely incomprehensible string of more than eight characters that includes more than two letters and numbers, a special symbol ($, %, &, *, #, but not & after all), no words in any language (with all those consonants, I was worried about Welsh), no family, pet or sports names, no consecutive repeating characters, no consecutive numerals that appear in my social security number, no consecutive characters that appear in my user name, and no office symbols (whatever those are).  And then I immediately wrote it down and put it in a prominent location because that was the only way in hell I was going to be able to remember it when I needed it. Now my account at the Copyright Office is impervious to high tech computer pirates but totally vulnerable to anybody who spends five minutes going through my desk.

God bless computers.  They make our lives so much easier.  How did we ever live without them?

What do we want? EQUALITY! When do we want it? NOW!

Me and my new friend from the Westboro Baptist Crazyhouse. I liked her signs SO MUCH that I decided to take a picture with her!

Posted by TERESA

I have returned from Washington DC after having spent the night and participated in the National Equality March!  I stayed with ELLYS in her new apartment (with her fabulous roomie, Jackie) that I now covet SO HARD.  Seriously, if there were a way for me to magically transport her place to Astoria (and pay the same rent), I totally would.  Alas, I don’t want to move to DC, so awesome and less expensive places like that remain out of reach…  Anyway, it was so great to hang out with Ellys.  It was the first time we’d really hung out just the two of us – she’s good people, that one.

I’m so glad I decided to participate in this march.  It’s the kind of thing that I always want to do, but always find an excuse not to.  This time, even though I was exhausted from a really difficult week, I decided to go.  And because I went, four other people (namely, Ellys, Jackie, and their friends, Christine and Michael) decided to march, too!  That’s all it takes, sometimes.  No one ever wants to be the first person to do anything, but very often, if you’re willing to take that first step, people will be willing to follow.

It was a beautiful day to be marching, and the vibe in the crowd was great.  And WHAT A CROWD!  It was enormous.  When we got to the already-crowded mall at the Capitol, the incoming crowd was still 7 blocks deep!  Anyway, here are some of my favorite shots from the day:

This picture was SUCH an accident, but I love it. Everyone is pointing up at something - and even the traffic lights are pointing up! What's everyone looking at???

They're looking at this. An honest-to-goodness RAINBOW in the sky. It hadn't rained since the day before, so there was no real reason for a rainbow to be out at all. Oh, and there are also little birds flying overhead in the sun. Seriously, if ever there were a sign that I was doing the right thing by participating in this march, this is it. After all, rainbows usually mean God feels bad and is making a promise not to be angry with us or hurt us. At least, they did that ONE time....

Ellys and me at the march. She couldn't BELIEVE she was in a pink article of clothing!

Michael and Ellys

Jackie, Ellys, and Christine

Bringing the march to the White House

Michael, Jackie, Ellys, and Christine bring the march to the Capitol

The crowd at the Capitol

This sign was so beautiful and simple. I loved it. "My wife is fighting for peace in the Middle East. I'm fighting for her."

Obama made a lot of big promises in his speech this weekend to the Human Rights Campaign.  He said he is going to be the one to end Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.  He said he promised Matthew Shepard’s mother that he would pass hate crimes legislation.  He said he was an advocate for the LGBT community.  I believe he really means that.  I just hope he has the courage to follow through.  There are many, many people -  gay, straight, and bi; male, female, and trans; citizens – who will not let up until he does.

Special thanks to SWiSH for organizing a group to march.  If any of you are looking for a way to get involved in the fight for equality, this org. would be a great place to start.

Representin’ the Heteros!

Posted by TERESA

Shhh.  Come here.  *looks over both shoulders*  I’m going to let you in on a little secret.

Are you ready?  Here it is:

You don’t have to be gay to support gay rights.

I know, right?  Isn’t that insane?!  But it’s TRUE!  In fact, it makes a strong statement if you’re NOT gay and support gay rights, because you’re making the point that civil rights belong to everyone, and that if one group’s rights are not being honored, it’s everyone’s problem.

If you have gay/lesbian/bi friends or family and you think it’s high time they had the same rights to get married, be employed, be protected from violent crimes, and serve in the military that you do; or if you  don’t, but just believe that American citizens should not be denied rights based solely on who they decide to sleep with, join me this weekend as I march in the National Equality March in Washington D.C.

I’m going with a wonderful organization called SWiSH (Straight Women in Support of Homos!), a gay-straight alliance that works toward LGBT equality.  I’ll be staying with the lovely ELLYS at her new place in D.C. tomorrow night, and we’ll be participating in preparatory events tomorrow night leading up to the march on Sunday!  If you’d like to go with me, and you have my info, contact me.  Otherwise, visit the SWiSH website and email them directly for info on how you can participate.

And if you can’t come to Washington this weekend, support SWiSH and organizations like it with your money and your time.  Talk up the cause to anyone and everyone you know.  Be brave.  Don’t be afraid to stand up for a group of which you’re not a part.  Do that, and it’s more likely that people will stand up for you when you need it.

Guilt-Free Trash Talk

Posted by TERESA

Well, it’s well after midnight, and I’ve just learned that I didn’t place in the NYC Midnight flash fiction contest.  Ah, well.  I sort of knew it would be a long shot.  Such is the way when there are 40 writers and only 4 prizes.  Still, it was fun, it got me writing more fiction than I had been doing in a while, and I really think my final story could be something in a longer version.  The seeds of something are there.  I’ll put them in a drawer and plant them in the spring.

To those of you who wished me luck and thought good thoughts for me, THANK YOU.    It was nice to feel rooted for, and I’m lucky that I know so many people who root for me every day.

And now…some guilt-free, unadulterated trash-talk. You didn’t think I was going to lose gracefully, did you? 

This actually has less to do with the contest and more to do with my frustration with the randomness and subjectivity inherent in submitting to publications/journals/contests – getting rejected – submitting again.  The NYC Midnight contest does this great thing where they send you feedback on each of the stories you submitted with notes from the judges.  I love that they do this.  It’s very helpful, and when I got the comments back on my first story, I thought they were on the money.  I thought “Yes!  If I had more than a weekend to write this, and weren’t under the pressure of a contest, that’s exactly what I’d fix/change/work on!”

Today, I got the feedback for my second story, The New Kid.  And it made me want to rip my hair out. But that’s because this story and I have a history.  Now, this is the story I whittled down from another, longer story I wrote years ago called The Sandbox.  It wasn’t a perfect story, but I’m still very proud of it.  At the time, I showed it to several people for feedback before I started sending it out, and they mostly told me that I was beating people over the head with the political symbolism and needed to be more subtle.  I agonized over that.  Maybe people will think the story simplistic because I’m being too obvious about the political undertone.  Maybe they’ll think that the politics is a gimmick.  I mean, naming the American kid SAM? Come on! Then, every journal to which I submitted it wrote me back saying “This is a great story about children, but it’s not what we’re looking for” without acknowledging the political aspect at all.

Earlier today (technically yesterday at the time of this writing), I asked the colleague who shares the office space with my boss – completely without giving him any context – “If you read a short story about an Arab kid, a Jewish kid, and an American kid, and it ended with the American kid befriending the Jewish kid, giving him money, and alienating the Arab kid, what would you think it was about?”  And he said “Well, you could probably see it as an allegory about the situation in the Middle East, right?”   RIGHT.

I asked him that question after receiving the following feedback from NYC Midnight about The New Kid:

”The New Kid” by Teresa Jusino – WHAT THE JUDGE(S) LIKED ABOUT YOUR SCRIPT – This piece works strongest during the debate about the hamburger – when we see simultaneously how alike and different these boys are, all at once.  ……Well-written.  Well-drawn characters.  Interesting story…………………….

………………………………………   WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK – The narrative voice and even the boys’ discussion doesn’t feel believable for a seven year old’s world.  Chlidren do not recognize differences so easily – it is our parents who point this out, delineate a line between ‘us’ and ‘them’.  That these children are so aware rings a little false to me.  I think ……While very well written, this is not a political satire.  It does not satirize anything………………………………….……..

First of all, if you’re going to criticize someone else’s writing, you’d better make damn sure there are no spelling or grammatical errors in your critique.  Secondly, children don’t notice differences??  They’re only taught them by their parents???  Since when?  Also, just about every bit about what the boys believe in the story is prefaced by them saying “My mom says that….”

And third?  Apparently I have really smart friends, and EVERYONE IN THE BUSINESS OF PUBLISHING OR JUDGING SHORT STORIES IS AN IDIOT.  WHY WON’T ANYONE LET ME BE GEORGE ORWELL??!!   You want to criticize the way I tell my story?  Fine.  I welcome that!  You want to suggest elements that will help me get my point across better?  By all means!  But if I spell something out with billboard-sized letters, surround it in neon lighting, and provide you an English to English dictionary and you don’t understand my story when everyone else I show it to does, without my saying anything to them ahead of time, it leads me to believe that there’s less wrong with my story and more wrong with how someone is reading it.

A friend I told about this feedback emailed me back, saying:

This is why whenever somebody says, “You don’t need to hit your readers over the head with this point, readers are smart” and getting that one point is crucial to understanding the entire story, I always err on the side of beating them over the head until their brains run out their ears.

Readers are idiots.

What do you all think?  I’d love your comments on this.  Are readers idiots?  Where does the responsibility of the reader end and the writer begin?  And vice versa?  And is there any way to actually figure that out?

Countdown to Midnight #4: Good Girl

Posted by TERESA

Well, it’s October 8th.  By 11:59PM ET tonight, I will know whether I’ve won the NYC Midnight flash fiction contest in any way, shape or form.  And so, I give you the final story I submitted for the contest, entitled GOOD GIRL.  The one I submitted when it was down to me and 39 other writers. Location?  A car wash.  Genre?  Fantasy. Object?  A kitten. I’m actually very proud of this one.  I spent a lot of time on it, but in a good way – it was inspired and I spent most of my time honing it, as opposed to coming up with an idea.  I love the main character, and would love to do a longer version of this sometime, regardless of its fate in this particular contest.  So, in a way, I’ve already won.  (Though a cash prize would be nice.)

Special thanks to Neil Gaiman, whom I ripped off a LOT in this (who, I’m sure, has ripped off a million other writers, right Neil?).  If you don’t know how I’m ripping him off here….well….forget I mentioned it.

GOOD GIRL

Only eight weeks old, and she knew how it felt to be unloved.  Her mother would allow Kitten and her siblings to suckle, but she wouldn’t look at them.

Then the first of Kitten’s siblings was taken.  A small person, a girl, put her face up against the glass and showed her teeth. Kitten watched her brother make the mistake of stalking, then pouncing at Girl’s face, clawing at nothing. The next thing Kitten knew, someone reached in and took her brother out of their glass box, placing him in Girl’s hands.  The same happened to the others until only Kitten and her mother remained.  She promised herself that she would never approach the glass and be taken away, leaving her mother alone.

One day, a woman peered into the glass.  She, too, showed her teeth. Kitten did what she usually did – mewed over her shoulder.  Move along.  Nothing more to see here.

Suddenly, someone took the mesh cover off the glass box and reached for her.  She clawed at the hand, but her tiny claws didn’t do much damage.  She looked to her mother for help, but her mother sighed and turned her head, exhausted by the whole world.

Kitten was handed to Woman, who cupped one hand under her rump and held her under her shoulders with the other. Kitten’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings, but Woman held her close, tightly, giving Kitten the warm contact her mother never did. Kitten purred. Woman said, “All better now.”

There was a man who lived with Woman.  They touched faces a lot. Kitten learned many new things.  She learned that when the people said ANABELLE, they meant her. She learned that people showed their teeth when they were happy and said GOOD GIRL.  And she learned that people liked it very much when kittens climbed into their laps and purred. Kitten was happy.  For the first time, she was regularly nuzzled and cared for.

Then things changed. Woman began pushing Kitten away whenever she’d jump in her lap.  Water came out of her eyes a lot. Man started yelling at Kitten more often.  He spent a lot of time holding Woman close.

Woman would say, “All I’ve ever wanted was a little girl of my own.”

Man would say, “It’ll happen for us, honey.  You’ll see.”

Kitten didn’t like seeing her people sad or angry.  As Kitten fell asleep one night, she prayed to The Cat God and asked for her people’s happiness…

In Kitten’s dream, The Cat God was all black, except for his paws and his snout, which glowed white.

“You pray for others but not for yourself?” asked The Cat God.

“I like being able to make my people happy.  Now, nothing does that.”

The Cat God smiled.  “You have a kind heart, so I shall give you a gift.  Tomorrow, your people will take you on a trip.  They will put you in a fabric carrier and place you on the backseat of their car.  Once there, claw your way out of the front of the carrier.  I will give you the strength to do it.  Hide on the floor of the backseat.  You must not let them see you.  If you do this, you will be able to make them happy again…”

The next morning, everything happened as The Cat God foretold.  Her people announced a big trip – something about a vee-eee-tee – and put her in a carrier.  She was placed in the back seat, and quickly set to work.  She was able to fit one paw through the mesh, then two.  She tumbled out of the hole and onto the floor of the backseat, curling up into a ball.

The car stopped moving, and the people exited. Man opened the back door and removed the carrier without looking.  The people rolled up the windows and closed the doors. Kitten sat in silence for a moment wondering what would happen next.

Suddenly, the car moved forward on its own. Kitten looked up and noticed that there was soap and water shooting all over the windows. Then something even stranger happened.  She began to grow and change.  Her fur fell out.  Her hind legs grew long and became something very different.  Her front paws grew, but not as long as her hind ones.  No more walking on all fours.  Her nose got bigger, her tail fell off. Kitten was afraid. She beat the doors with her paws that weren’t paws anymore as water started shooting at the windows with increasing force. Kitten didn’t like the noise.  She opened the car door fumbling with a metal bit and slid out of the car. Hot water hit her bare skin, and it hurt.  She looked at herself through squinted eyes and realized she was a person.  She stood on only two legs, crying, trying to dodge the jets of water.  She heard a commotion, and noticed Woman looking at her through a window, flailing her arms, screaming.  The water was shut off, and three men came in and rushed Kitten out the door and into the office where Man and Woman stood, shocked.

Woman rushed to Kitten, held her and said “Someone get this poor girl a blanket or towel or something?!”

Kitten understood!

Woman knelt before her and asked, “How did you get in there?  Where’s your mommy and daddy?  Where are your clothes?”

“I dunno” Kitten said, using words she didn’t know she had.

“What’s your name?” Woman asked.

Only one name came to her lips.

“Anabelle” she replied.

Woman stared into Anabelle’s eyes, shocked.

“Honey,” Woman said to Man.  “Check the cat carrier.”

“What do you mean…?” asked Man as he glanced at the carrier.  He saw the front torn out and panicked.  “Oh no!  Anabelle’s gone!”

Woman wrapped Anabelle in a towel one of the car wash employees brought her.

“No.  I don’t think she is…” Woman said.

Anabelle put her head on her mother’s shoulder and nuzzled her neck.