Home > Uncategorized > Confesiunile unui motan halterofil 3

Confesiunile unui motan halterofil 3

Those were the last words of my father. He was an alley cat, born and raised. He had a tooth against living and a passion for mice. I was three months old when he died. He died alone, us cats always do. He left me a little, black book, two poems, a broken milk bottle and two little mice (he was saving them for a rainy day).

In the old days, he was a Shakespearean heavy weight lifter. That means he could lift huge weights, the size of a dog, while reciting Shakespeare. He had won three state championships and he had even met the president. They liked each other’s fur as a sign of respect. His favorite part was reciting poetry, but how else would you get cats to listen to Shakespeare, if not lifting weights and crashing beer cans on you skull?

My father lost everything in the war. Most of you don’t know, but the war started when a foolish German Siamese cat began to crave for all the mice of the world. My father lost my mum to a German land mine and my grandfather, who was a scout, to a tank. Even fewer of you know that it was my father who had put an end to the war. He became the mascot of the Manhattan Project and one night, while they were all sleeping, he designed the giant mushroom thingy that could end everything, once and for all.

Back then, he was drinking a lot and his tail wiggled with hatred. He never forgave himself for all the innocent cats he had killed, except for the dogs, we were pretty happy about them being dead.

In order to repair what he had done, my father invented a clock that works backwards, a tree that grows to the moon (us cats love the moon) and a mice fork. He had been working with a hairy human on something called time. And he was convinced that if we would get enough mice to climb the tree and eat the moon,  we could replace it with the clock. The clock would then reverse the sun to the place that it was when the war started. And we could change everything.

I planted the tree on the day of his funeral. I’ve been a vegetarian ever since. I lived with mice, I helped them eat and sleep safely. Tonight, there lie one billion mice at the roots of the tree. They’re waiting for my signal. I am the exact age my father was when he died. Tonight I’m going to set the record straight:

“Stars hide your fires,

Let no light see my black and deep desires”.

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