This Week’s Flash Fiction Winner: Betsy A. Riley

Perhaps a black cat was not the wisest form to have chosen for this mission. I was small and flexible enough to squeeze through the fence around the offending transformer, and I could jump great distances in proportion to my body size. Not to mention reliably landing on my feet regardless of how I started out. But I didn’t take into account the white fluffy dog that belonged to the household.

Although that pesky creature can’t physically reach me, it is making an inconvenient amount of noise. And my host body is reacting in ways I did not expect. My back is arching and I find myself hissing. It is hard to focus on my mission: tweaking the transformer to stop the harmonic frequencies it was emitting. Those emissions were disrupting my species’ dimensional travel in this sector.

All I have to do is squeeze inside the gray metal enclosure and place the small magnetic device I carry in my teeth in the proper place. Not all that complicated, but that absurd yapping beast is triggering hormones that overwhelm any thoughts of my mission. I want to jump on his back and dig my claws into his flesh. And I have a ridiculous craving for fish. I hate fish.

Another small furry creature darts across my path and all is lost. I drop the device and give chase. The stupid little dog laughs at me. Mission failure.