I should be embarrassed to share this with you. In fact, I am, a little bit. Oh well, it’s not as though you know my real name or can laugh directly to my face.
The tricky dichotomy is that I love my thoughts on the fictitious relationship between a woman and her small man, but at the same time… every once in a while I slap my forehead and roll my eyes at the insanity of it. I wouldn’t blame anyone for doing the same.
But coming around the mental circle again, I wouldn’t change a thing about this quirk of mine. It’s far more fun than spending time watching reality shows on TV, or anything else actually comparable.
I wrote this a year and a half ago.
* * *
There is a chance you have, at one time or another, come in contact with elements of the animal kingdom. If you have, it’s very likely that you have liked a few specimens from various lineages of the tree of life.
If so, then it’s possible you have kept, or are currently hosting one or more of these creatures in your home. I know I am. I have a few cats, and it is because it’s very difficult to imagine life without them that some of the following thoughts came to mind.
I tend to have fantasies that include all possible scenarios, no matter how impossible. I think I have shown to myself that I’m not particularly concerned with what is really possible at all times anyway, so it isn’t that much of a stretch to throw my cats in the midst of what I picture would be a life shared with a tiny, little, shrunken little speck of a man.
It’s simple. They would eat him.
After toying with him some. Claws and teeth would be involved.
That’s the nature of cats, and I can hardly blame them for being spontaneous within the reality of my fantasies.
But then I take the next step in what I call “not wanting to think about unpleasant things,” and picture instead that they would get along famously. My cats would be fond of him as they are of me no matter his runty size and delectable-looking extremities, and enticing body made of edible flesh. They would listen to him in the same way they pay attention to me, with the same occasional and extravagant displays of obedience, the same curious independence blended with a constant willingness to sit on what I’m reading and be petted.
See how nicely they get along?
I was surfing the net a few days ago, and perusing through one of those places people upload images of family and pets and flowers and all manner of random things, when I stumbled upon the above photo of a cat looking out, staring at or waiting for something, don’t know what, but cats like to look out windows often.
There was something about it and the empty space between the cat and the woman’s shoes that made me think it was the perfect spot for the image of a shrunken man right then and there, sitting, staring, waiting in the same way the cat is.
The rest came to me the way some of these thoughts do, suddenly, often unexpectedly, like a movie that plays on its own in my mind while I watch from my own perspective from above, or from the female perspective, and even the male one sometimes, just to see what I look like.
I imagined that after I leave the house or the room or whatever … I wouldn’t even have to leave the house. I might be outside raking leaves or something of the sort … but inside there would be my cats, that for the benefit of this image have compacted themselves into one, and then there would be my Little Man, and the both of them would be buddies and confidants while I’m gone, and there would be all sorts of conversations as they stand or sit to wait for me, looking out that window. He might sit on that upturned shoe (except my sandal would be much prettier) at some point and would follow the irregularities of the sole with one little finger as he strikes a conversation with my other little pet….
“So … when do you think she’ll be back?”
“I don’t have a watch either. I just thought you might know.”
“Fine. sighs Do you think she’ll bring us something?”
“Oh, stop bragging. She doesn’t always bring you stuff. And if she does, it’s usually kitty litter anyway.”
“Hey, at least I have a bathroom.”
“It’s not in a dollhouse! I prefer calling it a smallish home.”
“I really need to get a job.”
“Cleaning her jewelry and applying nail polish is not what I would call a job. I used to be someone important in the world, you know? I used to have all these people to manage and order about, and now … well, just once I would like to put some food on the table.”
“What? I said food- Erm, why are you looking at me that way?”
stares and licks chops
“She did feed you before she left, d-d-didn’t she?”