At the Subterranean Exhibit
The cat waltzed into the next enclosure. Espying furry brown bodies
floating on their backs along a stream, the image of sleeping otters
painted in her mind matched the sight before her, except that she had
envisioned more otters - they were notorious for having big families
despite their small means.
Only lazy people sleep at midday. If they worked on their popularity and
weren’t so easily satisfied, they would probably get a better enclosure.
Captive to the embrace of their slumber, it took the cat awhile to get
their attention, “Hey, you know the swan over there?” Their darkened eyes,
which unbeknownst to the cat was caused by the fatigue of a week’s
practice of their synchronized swimming item for the party, lightened up.
“Yes, but he rarely speaks to us...” they said.
Immediately, the cat’s interjection sliced through the air. “Obviously
feeling too proud to talk!”
Shocked, they exclaimed, “Oh, it wasn’t because he was shy?” The cat
smiled slyly at the doubts she had cast and began her tirade about the
swan’s arrogance.
“Well, I’ll leave you to prepare for the party,” the cat concluded. “Or
rather, sleep.” Before the otters could say anything, she spun on her paw
and headed away.
This satire is intended to spark thought and reflection rather than war between races, so please conduct discussions in a civil manner; if it gets out of hand, I will shut down the comments section.
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peace lilies~