October 4th. 2014

I'm finding it more difficult to get to my writing on the weekends than it is during the week. Perhaps because my weekdays are far more structured. Strange, because one would think that more free time would make it easier.

Either way...

I saw a movie tonight and for some reason, it inspired this little writing bit.

“Let me out!  I’m innocent, I tell ya. I don’t belong here.”

My protests went unheeded, But it didn’t stop me from voicing my innocents.

Well, certainly innocent of the crime of which I’ve be accused. Someone had to take the fall, and that was me. It’s always me. And now I’m behind bars through no fault of my own.

And who knows how long I’ll be here, or if I’ll ever smell the sweet smell of grass and trees ever again.

Footsteps… I hear someone.

“Let me out. I didn’t do anything.”

Well, that’s a bit of a fib. I’ve done plenty, just not this.

“I didn’t do it!! I’m innocent.”

Wow, again, that a bit of a stretch. I mean, we’re all guilty of something.

“Let me out! Please!”

Nothing. I expected at least a glance.

“Come On… I’m telling ya, it wasn’t me!”

Finally, someone’s coming over to listen.

I know the drill.

I back up against the wall.

They open the door, I more forward, but only far enough so that they can reach in a put on the chains.

They lead me out of my cage.

This alone cheers me up.

I suppose I’m easily pleased, but pretty much anything is better than being shoved in a pen and being ignored.

Together we walk along, through the dark hall and the room with all the chairs.

“It wasn’t me” I try to calmly explain. “I don’t exactly know why you think I would do such a thing.”

I only get a tug on the chain as a response.

“Please, it’s not in my nature, I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding.”

We stop.

They force my head to the ground, my nose to the evidence – a big pile of poop in the middle of the carpet.

I whimper a little.

“Oh, that.”

My keeper finally breaks his silence and speaks to me “Bad Dog!”

I cower a little at he sound of his voice.

He repeats as he pushed my nose even closer to the poop “Bad Dog! No!”

I whimper and submit to his will. I stare at the poop, almost touching my nose.

He holds me there for a few more moments, then loosens his grip. I slowly, hesitantly rais my head and sit at his feet.

I look up at my keeper.

“I think the cat did it.”

No masterpiece of literary art, but fun to write. Hope if was fun to read.
Cheers