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"Florian's Cat" by EddieMartell

Category: Short Story

Tags: Fiction

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Florian’s Cat


    Florian sat with his knees to his chest on the shingles outside the skylight, looking up at the constellations.  Andromeda was his favorite.  He would like to have a cat named Andromeda.  His mother always said no, but he was thinking of a new way to ask.

    He shifted back a little further from the opening onto the roof.  Nobody was allowed on the roof, Ken said, not even now that Florian was big enough to hold an ax and chop firewood for the stove in the middle of Ken’s living room that heated the house, while Ken sat on the woodpile, supervising, and talked about fishing in the mountains up by Tahoe and things that happened before Florian was born, the sixties and the war.  “Back in the mist, before you were born,” he always started.  The mists of time, Mom said.  Like the fog on the Santa Cruz Mountains, so thick in the morning it poured all the way down to the city and houses and trees turned grey in the white like ghosts.  Back in the mist before you were born, Ken was a Public Defender.  When he was little, Florian thought a Public Defender flew in a cape like Batman, but it was really a kind of lawyer, Mom said.  Mom was a Public Defender, too, before she worked at the company with Ken.  The difference was now she got paid.  Mom and Ken laughed and Mom went back in the house to finish writing her Brief On Appeal.

    Sometimes Florian got almost done a whole pile of sticks by the time Ken set down his beer and said, “Hold up there, woodsman.  Urinary intermission.”  Then Florian would go to the kitchen and eat the bowl of ice cream Mom left in the fridge, while Ken went off and took his bath, and Florian got to watch Ken’s TV.  Florian was the only kid in his entire class that didn’t have a TV at home.  

    Mom let him watch.  She didn’t mind if he watched at his friends’, only not to say too much around Dad.  He could remember the first time he figured out tu-much-aroun-dad wasn’t one word.  Dad said TV was for intellectual midgets.  Cats were probably for intellectual midgets, too.  

    Florian knew what intellectual midgets were.  At first he thought Dad meant real midgets, like Doc in the Seven Dwarves, and hobbits, and that Dad didn’t like midget stuff because he was over six feet.  He banged his head when he tried to get on the bus.  But Mom and Ken laughed and Mom said Dad didn’t mean smart people that were little, he meant any size people that were not smart.  And Ken said, “Well, your Dad’s got a point.  We shouldn’t let you watch more than a couple hours at a time.  Can’t wear out the antenna.”  Mom laughed at that, too, and Florian thought of a way to get a cat.

    He heard the front door open and shut very quietly down there, and somebody going into the kitchen.  He slid down the shingles to where he could hang through the skylight and reach his feet to the top of the bookcase.  It was his secret way.  Closing the skylight behind him, he climbed down so quick the books slid sideways.  He could hear the person’s feet shuffle so he knew it wasn’t Mom or Ken, but Ken’s wife Carole.  She ran water very quietly into the kettle.  Now she would make chocolate and sit on the couch until her sleeping pill started to work.  

    Carole had the longest hair Florian had ever seen an old lady with, like a snowy river going down a mountain.  She wore turquoise earrings and silver beads and a blue dress and a shawl with long, long fringes.  She put the kettle on the stove, not even asking why Florian wasn’t asleep in the special guest-bed yet.  “Want your bear cup?” she whispered.

    Florian hesitated.  He didn’t really like the bear cup any more.  He wanted his new cup that superheroes came out on when you poured in hot water, but Carole was running her fingers over the bear’s ears as though the bear was a pet.  “Carole, do you like cats?” he asked.

    “Mm, breakfast, lunch and dinner,” she replied, spooning brown powder into the cup.  “You know, a dog is more of a friend, as pets go.  A cat doesn’t like to hang out.”

    “But which one do you like, Carole?” he persisted.  This was a smarter way to ask.  Of course she’d take cat.

    But Carole didn’t answer, only rubbed her hands together over the kettle to warm them up.  Florian plunged ahead.  “If I had a cat, I’d lend it to you.  It could stay here.  I’d only play with it when Mom came over to work late with Ken.”

    Carole was staring at him.  She put her hands all warm from the kettle around his face.  “Poor boy.  My poor boy, you’re trying to con me.  The only reason it doesn’t work is you aren’t a grownup yet.  You’re learning to con well.  You’re becoming a cheat.  A cheat is a terrible, terrible thing to become.  You have to save yourself by telling the truth.”

    “But I would lend it to you.  I would.”

    “Yes, you would.  So it’s not quite exactly a lie.  That’s why not becoming a cheat will be so difficult, honey.  Cheaters very seldom tell lies.  They leave things out.”

    “But—“

    “You left out that your mother and father don’t want a cat.  And that’s why you want to use my house.”  She was gripping his head a little bit.  “You want to use me.”

    “But we could share!” he yelled, jerking away, suddenly mad.  He had offered his cat and she didn’t care, and she had that terrible look on her face that made him cry.  He was not going to cry.  He pushed a chair.  It fell and hit the table and hot chocolate went all over the place, but he was still mad and he kicked something and then big salad bowls were falling and pitchers were falling, too.  Then his mother was there.  

    “What’s wrong?  Why aren’t you sleeping, Florian?”

    And then it was as if Carole and Mom were talking, but neither one said anything.  Carole looked at Mom’s chest, and Mom pulled her bathrobe neck closed.  It was Ken’s bathrobe.  The door to Ken’s room shut, just after Carole and Mom both looked at it without moving their heads, only their eyes.  

    Mom said, “What’s happened?”

    Carole said, “Florian’s going to get a cat.”




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Category Name: My Thoughts

I did not enjoy this story. I am not even sure what problem the protagonist faced. This story was okay. The story would have been better if the author had introduced the problem differently and made it feel more pressing. I really enjoyed this story. The author did a good job pulling me into the story by introducing an immediate and important problem for the protagonist.

This section is for overall comments and general ideas. The score should reflect how much you enjoyed the story.

Category Name: Character Development

The characters were not dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable or unique. I don’t care about or understand the characters because they were poorly developed. The characters were somewhat dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I partially understood the thoughts, feelings, and actions of the characters. I somewhat connected with and care about the characters. The characters were very dynamic, credible, interesting, memorable and unique. I thoroughly understood their thoughts, feelings and actions. I felt connected with and cared about the characters.

This is act of bringing a character to life on the page. It is a combination of the author’s description of the character and the character’s dialog, action, and thoughts. Though all characters should be believable, the protagonist and antagonist are usually the most developed characters.

Category Name: Plot

I finished reading the story so the plot must have unfolded, but I am not sure what the plot was. The characters did not achieve or grow by solving the problems they faced in this story. There were definite wrinkles in the way the plot unfolded leading to the final conflict. The plot was loosely tied to the achievement and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame some of the problems flowed unnaturally with the story. I could see the plot unfolding through a series of escalating problems that lead to the final conflict. The plot helped me understand the achievements and growth of the characters. The way the protagonist overcame the problems flowed naturally with the st

In fiction a plot is all the events in a story, particularly rendered towards the achievement of some particular artistic or emotional effect. In other words it's what mostly happened in the story. The plot draws the reader into the character's lives and helps the reader understand the choices that the characters make.

Category Name: Dialog

The dialog seemed like cold words on paper. I had a hard time following it. I didn’t learn very much about the characters through the dialog. Through the dialog I could sometimes see the characters learn and grow while occasionally discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was generally consistent with the character. Through the dialog I could see the characters learn and grow while simultaneously discovering new facets of their personalities. The dialog was true to the character and it helped me understand the characters emotions.

Category Name: Setting

The setting created a haze in my mind that detracted from the story. I am lost in time and space because I don’t know when or where this story takes place. The setting was described adequately, but not well enough to bring it to life in my mind. The setting did not add to or detract from the story. I am pretty sure I know when and where the story takes place. The author engaged all of my senses while vividly describing the setting. The setting helped me better understand the setting and plot. I know when and where this story takes place.

The setting is where a story takes place. The choice of setting and its description helps the story come alive in the mind of the reader. Appropriate setting contributes to the plot and mood of the story.

Category Name: Mechanics

The story contained so many mechanical errors that it was hard to follow the plot or understand certain sentences or paragraphs. Occasional mechanical errors were distracting, but these errors did not inhibit me from being able to understand the plot or connect with characters in the story. I rarely if ever noticed mechanical errors. As far as I could tell, the writing was clear and correct.

Mechanics includes sentence structure, verb agreement, grammar, spelling, voice, punctuation and aspects of basic style.

Note: The purpose of ReviewFuse reviews is NOT to provide comprehensive copy editing, but rather to "ignite creativity." Reviewers should not feel obliged to point out every grammar or spelling error (though they certainly can if they wish), but should focus on this area only to the degree that errors make a story hard to follow or understand.

Inline comments are the most helpful and important aspects of your review.

Click on a paragraph or highlight text from the paragraph to provide inline comments. While detailed grammar correction is welcome, the purpose of inline commenting is to spark the author's creativity. This is best done by expressing feelings, questions, and concerns you have about the story while you are reading.

1. Florian’s Cat

2.

3.     Florian sat with his knees to his chest on the shingles outside the skylight, looking up at the constellations.  Andromeda was his favorite.  He would like to have a cat named Andromeda.  His mother always said no, but he was thinking of a new way to ask.

4.     He shifted back a little further from the opening onto the roof.  Nobody was allowed on the roof, Ken said, not even now that Florian was big enough to hold an ax and chop firewood for the stove in the middle of Ken’s living room that heated the house, while Ken sat on the woodpile, supervising, and talked about fishing in the mountains up by Tahoe and things that happened before Florian was born, the sixties and the war.  “Back in the mist, before you were born,” he always started.  The mists of time, Mom said.  Like the fog on the Santa Cruz Mountains, so thick in the morning it poured all the way down to the city and houses and trees turned grey in the white like ghosts.  Back in the mist before you were born, Ken was a Public Defender.  When he was little, Florian thought a Public Defender flew in a cape like Batman, but it was really a kind of lawyer, Mom said.  Mom was a Public Defender, too, before she worked at the company with Ken.  The difference was now she got paid.  Mom and Ken laughed and Mom went back in the house to finish writing her Brief On Appeal.

5.     Sometimes Florian got almost done a whole pile of sticks by the time Ken set down his beer and said, “Hold up there, woodsman.  Urinary intermission.”  Then Florian would go to the kitchen and eat the bowl of ice cream Mom left in the fridge, while Ken went off and took his bath, and Florian got to watch Ken’s TV.  Florian was the only kid in his entire class that didn’t have a TV at home.  

6.     Mom let him watch.  She didn’t mind if he watched at his friends’, only not to say too much around Dad.  He could remember the first time he figured out tu-much-aroun-dad wasn’t one word.  Dad said TV was for intellectual midgets.  Cats were probably for intellectual midgets, too.  

7.     Florian knew what intellectual midgets were.  At first he thought Dad meant real midgets, like Doc in the Seven Dwarves, and hobbits, and that Dad didn’t like midget stuff because he was over six feet.  He banged his head when he tried to get on the bus.  But Mom and Ken laughed and Mom said Dad didn’t mean smart people that were little, he meant any size people that were not smart.  And Ken said, “Well, your Dad’s got a point.  We shouldn’t let you watch more than a couple hours at a time.  Can’t wear out the antenna.”  Mom laughed at that, too, and Florian thought of a way to get a cat.

8.     He heard the front door open and shut very quietly down there, and somebody going into the kitchen.  He slid down the shingles to where he could hang through the skylight and reach his feet to the top of the bookcase.  It was his secret way.  Closing the skylight behind him, he climbed down so quick the books slid sideways.  He could hear the person’s feet shuffle so he knew it wasn’t Mom or Ken, but Ken’s wife Carole.  She ran water very quietly into the kettle.  Now she would make chocolate and sit on the couch until her sleeping pill started to work.  

9.     Carole had the longest hair Florian had ever seen an old lady with, like a snowy river going down a mountain.  She wore turquoise earrings and silver beads and a blue dress and a shawl with long, long fringes.  She put the kettle on the stove, not even asking why Florian wasn’t asleep in the special guest-bed yet.  “Want your bear cup?” she whispered.

10.     Florian hesitated.  He didn’t really like the bear cup any more.  He wanted his new cup that superheroes came out on when you poured in hot water, but Carole was running her fingers over the bear’s ears as though the bear was a pet.  “Carole, do you like cats?” he asked.

11.     “Mm, breakfast, lunch and dinner,” she replied, spooning brown powder into the cup.  “You know, a dog is more of a friend, as pets go.  A cat doesn’t like to hang out.”

12.     “But which one do you like, Carole?” he persisted.  This was a smarter way to ask.  Of course she’d take cat.

13.     But Carole didn’t answer, only rubbed her hands together over the kettle to warm them up.  Florian plunged ahead.  “If I had a cat, I’d lend it to you.  It could stay here.  I’d only play with it when Mom came over to work late with Ken.”

14.     Carole was staring at him.  She put her hands all warm from the kettle around his face.  “Poor boy.  My poor boy, you’re trying to con me.  The only reason it doesn’t work is you aren’t a grownup yet.  You’re learning to con well.  You’re becoming a cheat.  A cheat is a terrible, terrible thing to become.  You have to save yourself by telling the truth.”

15.     “But I would lend it to you.  I would.”

16.     “Yes, you would.  So it’s not quite exactly a lie.  That’s why not becoming a cheat will be so difficult, honey.  Cheaters very seldom tell lies.  They leave things out.”

17.     “But—“

18.     “You left out that your mother and father don’t want a cat.  And that’s why you want to use my house.”  She was gripping his head a little bit.  “You want to use me.”

19.     “But we could share!” he yelled, jerking away, suddenly mad.  He had offered his cat and she didn’t care, and she had that terrible look on her face that made him cry.  He was not going to cry.  He pushed a chair.  It fell and hit the table and hot chocolate went all over the place, but he was still mad and he kicked something and then big salad bowls were falling and pitchers were falling, too.  Then his mother was there.  

20.     “What’s wrong?  Why aren’t you sleeping, Florian?”

21.     And then it was as if Carole and Mom were talking, but neither one said anything.  Carole looked at Mom’s chest, and Mom pulled her bathrobe neck closed.  It was Ken’s bathrobe.  The door to Ken’s room shut, just after Carole and Mom both looked at it without moving their heads, only their eyes.  

22.     Mom said, “What’s happened?”

23.     Carole said, “Florian’s going to get a cat.”

24.

25.

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