Our house attic floor is creaking. I go there to write sometimes, the loneliness helps me, although the house is silent all the time, I just want to feel like a great writer. Half the time I come down after an hour because I can promise you I’ve seen a small laughing girl on the corner, twice. The floor itself is a lesson on life, it’s very old, walls are torn, smelling like all the rats had a pee ceremony, small blurry window to look outside and never know when the creaking floor would give in and take me with it inside the whirlpool of debris. Anyway, those imagination do float in my head every step I take in the attic but to write about my house what better place is there to be than in the cold, dark attic above everyone else and nobody knows there’s someone there writing about them all.
We gave a painter to paint our old house, now he is supposed to be a greatest painter the locals have ever seen, he is kind of a big deal in here, there are stories of him painting roofs without ladders, hanging on a rope to paint the floors peddling with just the brush, stories go on but he is a very busy person, so we caught him off guard when he tripped and fell from neighbour’s roof into the bush below. We quickly struck a deal to start our job next week before first aid box was brought in. I also feel that he might have agreed to do anything in that painful crying, well who cares about his ankles. He painted the house very well and there weren’t any holes at all — for a month. After a month, Holes started appearing on the walls, Paint started peeling off, and ugliness ruled the wall — now we cannot blame the demons can we, they aren’t going to give us back the money, so we blamed the painter. Painter couldn’t do it and brought in another new painter, we had only one request to him — paint without holes. He almost had a nervous breakdown when he painted many coats of paint over and over again only to see the holes appear more faster. Both of them had a discussion which went through the night to bring in a more experienced painter in the morning — he is said to have conquered the seven stages of painting journey and painted the unpaintable walls of Alkazar fort, according to our two painters. He wasn’t ready to divulge the location of the fort, unfortunately. He was actually a pro, he fixed it in couple of hours, apparently trick was to fix the leak from our water tank on the roof.
When I was a kid, there was a cat I befriended by accident. We were both at the same place at the same time for a piece of meat in the kitchen. Now common understanding is that cats do run for their lives when we go near, don’t believe them. I did the same trick but couldn’t go much near he was looking at me with cold eyes, I guess that mean fatty cat was bit swollen headed. So I called my mom, cat was nowhere to be seen. Probably because I’ve seen her chasing it after he kind of stole the fish she kept on the table to cook. After that, I felt Cat has somehow harbouring that utter humiliation added my name to his list. When I’m in the bed, reading, he would silently come to the window and watch me, when I look suddenly, he will disappear. When I’m around the house, that cat would ‘happen’ to be around my walking route. Now, I couldn’t wait to be attacked by an animal which is adored for it’s lovely persona, I mean what will people say about me when they hear about the attack?. I kept a piece of meat to lure him into the kitchen and ambush him. When I came in later, He had ate the meat and kept a head of a rat on top to send me a message. This cat had balls and so did I. I would have a nice smelly fish near the window and when comes in and smells it, I would call on mom and he would run for his life. He had somehow managed to make my feet stick in his poop, thrice — then only I know cats actually have a snarky laugh. There was a period of ceasefire as I remember before the big apology day, because he turned out to be a she (I don’t check the bottoms of any animals for that matter) and she was pregnant. Having kids somehow made her see me as her kid probably, she didn’t do anything to me and I would keep food for her and her kids. After a few months of her motherhood, an odd thing happened. I was just cruising through the kitchen stuffs for a snack craving I had, And there was she, jumped in from somewhere. We were at the same place at the same time for the probably same snacks in the kitchen. This time I let her take a piece of biscuits I’m eating in view of our new found friendship. Anyway unfortunately my mom saw that and she doesn’t even like a cat inside the house and her son just invited one inside for a snack— you do the math.
