The café cat-astrophe

In a quaint little town nestled by a lazy river, lived Nephy, a sleek orange cat with eyes like almonds.

- PAIGE TURNER

Her glossy coat shimmered in the sunlight, and her whiskers twitched with pride. Nephy wasn’t just any cat—she was a queen in her own mind, demanding adoration from anyone who crossed her path. But heaven help the soul who dared to fall short of her standards.

Nephy’s human, Colonel Nathaniel, was a no-nonsense military man who believed in order and discipline. But even his stern demeanour was no match for Nephy’s cunning ways. She had perfected the art of pretending to adore him—curling up on his lap when he returned home from his evening stroll, purring melodiously as he scratched behind her ears. But deep down, she knew she was the boss.

Colonel Nathaniel first met Nephy during a brisk autumn evening when the trees painted the streets with hues of orange and gold. The Colonel had been out on his daily walk, his boots crunching against the fallen leaves, when he spotted her perched regally atop a park bench. Her orange fur finely blended with the season, and she watched him approach with an air of detachment, her almond eyes gleaming with intelligence.

“Lost, are we?” he grunted, crouching to inspect her.

Nephy let out a soft, unimpressed chirp and flicked her tail. She didn’t need rescuing, but something about the Colonel’s stern demeanour intrigued her. Without waiting for an invitation, she leapt into his arms, startling the man who hadn’t been hugged in years. That was the beginning of their peculiar companionship.