Isle of Cats

Nobody warned her there would be so many cats.

I mean, technically they had. “So many cats,” they’d said. That still did not adequately prepare her for the Isle of Cats. They were everywhere. Virtually every horizontal surface was plastered with cats, kittens, tigers, lions, panthers, or whatever else could fit into the available space.

It was a warm, sunny day so they were mostly just lazing about, napping. The few awake ones stared at her as she stepped off the boat with that sort of idle, indifferent curiosity that all cats shared. She fingered the weapon at her side for security, realizing deep down it wouldn’t help if one of the big cats decided she looked tasty.

The place was a natural paradise, intruded upon only by the ruins of brick and stone buildings from some civilization long forgotten. Everything they had made, everything they had been, now turned over to the comfort of the feline inhabitants. As was only appropriate from the cats’ perspective, she thought.

Somewhere in all this was a secret. A real, true secret that nobody had ever found. It’s the reason she was here. Seeing all this made her believe it even more. After all, there was no way this was natural. No way this could just be the balance of life, especially on a small remote island.

I mean, what did they all eat?

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