As with last week’s post, this story “outline” (if you could even call it that) comes from many moons ago. How many moons, I’m not exactly sure. Circa 2010 or 2011, if I had to guess. It’s entirely ridiculous and nonsensical and not at all like the kind of thing I write these days– and I just had to share, for the sake of… posterity, I guess. It’s probably best not to question it. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy.

Madammé Flintchet’s Mind – A Tourist’s Guide 

Ageing spinster [Madammé Flintchet] owns her own home in which her middle-aged brother has a room, rent-free. He’s an aspiring comedian earning little-to-no money and always thinking up mad get-rich-quick schemes that never work out.

Francés (Madammé Flintchet) is a retired horticulture teacher who is often inspired with great ideas that come from nowhere – often while she’s about to drift off or wake up.

(Note to Self: comedic tone.

Alternative character names: Nora or Mildred or Millie)

One night, while giving her creaky headboard a thud to shut it up, [Francés] pauses. What did she just hear? It was just her tummy rumbling. Nothing to worry about. Although, she did internally note that there wasn’t the usual vibration to accompany such a rumble.

She muses about cat assassins while following a stray down the path/alley. [????]

One night, upon leaving her room – to ‘make use of the facilities’ as she puts it – she shot high off her feet, startled by her brother returning from a midnight kitchen raid.

SMACK!

She hadn’t noticed him until the words, “What’s the craic?” echoed in the darkness.

Told from the perspective of a ‘person’ working in her mind, on his tea break.

“Oh, look at the time! Must dash!”

“Suduko alert! All working braincells report for duty!”

“It’s been non-stop in here this morning!” etc.

Again, yes, this is indeed how it ends. I’m as baffled as anyone as to why I haven’t gotten a multi-million-dollar publishing deal yet. It must be those inexplicable cat assassins!