I Meant to Do That
by Chris Hugh
The new desk fascinated me. All new things fascinate me. I need to sit in them as soon as possible, rub my nose against them and, if the woman's not looking, scratch them. I hid around a corner until the coast was clear and then I ran. Ran, ran, ran, streaked through the house like a black bolt of lightning, showing off, jumped on the desk and, um, slid across its treacherously polished surface, got splatted like Wile E. Coyote into a nearly wall and then slipped to the carpet in slow motion.
Don't laugh. I meant to do that.
A true story.
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