“That’s impossible, Monica!” Said Karl to his wife, the Mrs. Snapjaw. He put the highball to his lips and swallowed its contents in a vain attempt to clear his head. He could feel the scotch burning its way to his belly.
“But it’s true, Karl! It’s true! I’m not saying his lips move, or anything like that, but he gets into my head somehow and I hear him. I hear his voice. I’d recognize it anywhere.” She gazed sideways at Max and then whispered, “It’s kind of effeminate.”
“That cat? That cat right there?” Karl pointed at Max. “He speaks to you? And just what exactly does he say?”
#Ragtag Daily Prompt #RDP #Impossible
