Becoming the Story by L. E. Henderson Page A

her face
changed and the outer contours of her eyes expanded. At first
Muffins thought it was from anger and began to back away.
    Meanwhile, Evie expelled a heavy breath and
rushed out the door. Muffins felt herself gripped beneath her belly
and lifted, and soon her fur was wet with kisses, and it was hard
not to struggle against the fierceness of the welcome.
    Muffins was carried inside. She let herself
go limp for the ride, staring at the familiar surroundings, until
Evie set her on the floor. “Oh Muffins, I was so afraid that awful
girl had stolen you, that thief . Can you believe that bitch
stole my dress? Who does that, steals a used old dress? But you
must have escaped, because here you are! Such a smart kitty!” She
leaned down and stroked Muffins on the head and kneaded the loose
skin on her neck as Muffins unleashed a rumbling purr. “Such a
smart, smart kitty!”
    Within hours Muffins was sprawled in front
of the fireplace hearth, her forepaws stretched across her carpeted
scratching post stand. Her food dish was inches from her along with
an empty saucer that had contained warm milk, an intoxicating
creamy elixir that had made her feel warm inside, warm and safe and
loved.
    When she had first gotten home, she
investigated all her favorite places to make sure things were still
the way she had left them: the plastic milk rings and bread
wrappers she had pawed under the refrigerator, just within her
reach.
    She had not seen any string since she got
home, sparkling or otherwise, though she had searched for it. She
remembered so well the joys of gamboling and frolicking and
chasing, and the feeling that all that mattered in the whole world
was catching the glittering string and showing it who was boss.
    She wondered if returning to her old self
was the salvation the woman had talked about. It had seemed so
dramatic at the time, so profound, with all the tingling and the
sparkling air, yet the only result was that she was back to her old
life. If returning to cat-hood was salvation, what had been the
point of any of it?
    Maybe it was to make her aware that having
to clean toes every day was nothing compared to the difficulty of
being human, which had appeared to be awfully complicated and
confusing, with all the sinning, saving, and trying to live
forever.
    She wondered if what the lady said was true,
that lives were not eternal without divine help, and if someday
Muffins was going to die. She could not believe it, not now,
because the moment she was in felt eternal to her, with the warmth
from the fireplace, the sound of embers popping, the crackle, and
the belly full of milk.
    Muffins looked around and wondered, “What if
this is all there is, the milk and the warmth, and the soft carpet,
and the cool wind coming in from the crack in the windowsill,
letting me know that outside it is dark but inside there is light
and life?”
    She tensed at that thought, all there
is . But then she remembered the sparkling twine in all its
beauty. She stretched her forepaws, let herself go deliciously
limp, and thought, “Then I will take it.”
    With a languorous yawn, Muffins closed her
eyes.

The Aliens Do
Laundry (A
parable about first contact with a coy
alien species)
    The day humanity discovered that it was not
alone in the universe, the world rejoiced. At least most of it
did.
    There were orations and celebrations and
irate pulpit sermons, and military mobilization, and fear. The news
had lifted everyone from personal concerns, dull jobs, and tepid
sit-coms as they contemplated all the beauty and terror of the
discovery:  We are not alone .
    What did it mean for the earth? What was to
be done?
    The U.S. Defense Department knew, or thought
it did. When it came to aliens, one could not be too careful. It
manufactured new weapons and recruited new soldiers. To assume that
an unfamiliar race of intelligent beings was friendly would be
folly. Most likely the aliens would want to colonize earth in order
to exploit its valuable