Variations Three by Sharon Lee

 
     
    Coffeecat
    Sharon Lee
     
    "AARRW!"
    "That’s easy for you to say! After all,
you’re a cat. Highest level of evolution and all that. Just back
among us mere mortals for one more incarnation, to prove to the
Eternal All that you finally and for all time have gotten your act
together--"
    "Ow!"
    "Hey, don’t get sore; I didn’t mean anything
by it. Monkeys are bad-tempered, is all--especially when they can’t
get their paws around their morning coffee. How’m I supposed to
create, I ask you, without coffee?"
    A pause which the cat refused to fill,
then.
    "Listen, cat, there’s a theory--genuine
scientific stuff, now, done proper--that makes coffee the Prime
Motivator, the creative force of the Universe: ‘In the Beginning,
there was Coffee, complete unto Itself. But, in the fullness of
Time, Coffee became lonely and called into being Cream and Sugar--’
You listening to me?"
    But the cat had followed the rays of the
early morning sun and now sat in the center of a lightpool,
unconcernedly washing its toes.
    The Magician sighed and returned his
attention to his worktable, empty except for two objects. One was
an outsize and very empty earthenware coffee mug.
    The other was a common tree toad. It blinked
at the Magician, bemused.
    The Magician blinked back, made a few
properly mystic passes, muttered a word that may have been
’echranstratz.’ The toad vanished.
    The coffee mug remained empty, a comment on
the amount of joy to be found in the Magician’s universe at that
particular moment.
    The Magician therefore settled his hat
tightly on his head, pushed back his sleeves and Strove. He made
many mystic passes, accompanied by many words, some of which may
have been ‘echranstratz’--
    "Dammit!"
    The cat paused in its toilet to stare
reproachfully at the Magician, who, in his turn, stared at his
littered worktable. He was talking to himself.
    "A jack ball. Three robin-egg rubies. A
ticket to the 1965 World Series--upper reserve. A brass lamp. Two
ingots of gold and one of--silver?--no, platinum. Fourteen velvet
hair ribbons. One raccoon’s tail. A coupon for one free anchovy and
green pepper pizza. And still it’s empty, empty, EMPTY! Gods, what
do I have to do to get a cup of COFFEE in this joint?!"
    So saying, he hurled his pointed hat against
the nearest wall, wrapped his arms wildly around his chest,
screamed a word that was definitely NOT ‘echranstratz’and vanished
with a craack in a cloud of black smoke.
    The cat finished washing his face, sat for a
moment, staring at nothing, and then strolled across the room to
the worktable. A light leap, a dainty landing. He pointedly ignored
the jack ball, played a brief game of bat-about with a ruby until
he lost it to the floor; stropped himself on the lamp and, at last,
walked over to glance, with great incuriosity, inside the coffee
mug. Then he stretched, yawned and left the table in search of a
sunny sill in which to nap.
    Presently the steam rising from the mug on
the worktable filled the empty room with rich, brown aroma.
     
     
    First published in Owlflight #5, 1986
     
     
     

 
     
    The AfterImage
    Sharon Lee
     
    "ALL MY LIFE I’ve avoided bathing suits, and
now this!" The blonde pulled irritably at the strip of spandex
spanning her ample ass and sighed gustily.
    Privately, Brandi agreed. The only thing
that kept her from bolting was the thought of the scholarship
money. "Harvard Business School," she said to herself reverently,
and felt her courage rise even as she avoided looking into the
full-length mirror.
    Besides, Trish had hidden her clothes.
    "Just a precaution, darling," her svelte and
stylish manager had gushed. "Can’t have the fans mauling your
things."
    Right.
    "Harvard Business School," she repeated,
barely aware of the murmur of her voice.
    "Huh?" The blonde turned toward her. "You
say something?"
    Brandi started. "Oh! Just that this is the
worst part, isn’t it? My manager says the BeforeVid is always a
skag. She says that