Lilith shifts slightly in her seat as she adjusts herself for the umpteenth time. She recrosses her ankles and briskly pushes her shirt sleeves back up her pale arms, sighing as she continues to type away at The Company's report. Arching her back in a slight stretch she turns peeking into her cup, eyes widening with disappointment as she realizes her tea cup is empty. Slowly she raises her light green eyes narrowing them as she meets a pair far more lighter and striking, belonging to the only other being in the room...her cat Manfred. "Would p***y care to refill my cup?", she murmurs and then laughs softly as Manfred meows mournfully in response. "Ai, you can't help it if you're partial to tea, now can you? Next time I'll make for both of us and then I need not share...", she smiles as she leans across and strokes his glossy fur. She continues to stroke him absentmindedly as she stares back hopelessly at her report thus far. "I'm getting nowhere with this", she sighs once again as she leans her head back and gazes at the ceiling admiring the moth currently dancing in mesmerized circles around the bulb, "Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere". Overcome with sudden fatigue, she closes her eyes and slowly drifts to sleep.
Awakening with a jolt only a few moments later. Leaning forward she spits the moth out, sticking her finger in her mouth to wipe away excess dust from the moths wings, now coating her tongue. "Aah grosh! It'sh not like I haf a bright ligh' down meh shroat. Stupid bug!", she grumbles as she continues to rub at her tongue and teeth.
She grabs at her packet of Rothmans, lying open on the desk. With a flick of her wrist and few swift movements of her nimble fingers, she lights her cigarette and inhales deeply, smiling as she settles in her comforting cloud of smoke. She looks down thoughtfully at the gooey remains of the moth lying dejectedly all over her keyboard. "Manfred? You wouldn't be interested in cleaning this mess up, would you? Manny...?" she turns, looking around, not spying her cat anywhere. "Oh, but of course", she mutters, noticing the open window "When will I learn?"
Manfred Jeremy Fisher had the awful habit of prowling the streets at night - seeking battles, seeking intimate relations or seeking both. Whenever he returned from a night out on the town he'd saunter in (more often than not) lacking his collar, lacking some fur and with a few new scars to add to his collection. Lilith had come to the conclusion that cats handed over their collars to the victor of the nightly escapades and was waiting in anticipation for the day Manfred brought home a few collars of his own...
<to be continued>
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Probably a load of rubbish, you know - the usual random gibberish which spews from my brain.
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I don't take myself too seriously, so I don't expect you to either
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