Egg

I live outside town. Just next to my small house is a forest. There
are many trees in this forest, mostly eucalyptus. There are a few trees
whose names nobody knows. For about a mile from my house there is no
other dwelling, not even a shop. My family has been living in this
house for a hundred years. I am the only living member of my family
now. I have employed a cook who also does some cleaning once in a
while. We have often been told that the forest near which we live is a
strange, enigmatic place. It has no animals but we hear strange,
beast-like cries after midnight. I have tried to find out where the
noise comes from with the aid of a torch and gun, without any success.
Yesterday was a Sunday. Its winter now and I like to take walks in the
forest when I am free. When I got to the pond at the centre of the wood
I found an extraordinary thing under an unfamiliar tree. Well, it was
an egg whose size was about five times that of the standard egg laid by
a hen. Its shell appeared quite tough and was blue in colour. I looked
around to check whether anyone was looking. Then, I picked up the egg
carefully and brought it home. Of course I did not show the egg to my
cook. He would have boiled it immediately and served it for lunch. I
wrapped the egg in a soft cloth and put it into my suitcase. I reckoned
it would stay safe and warm there. Well, I was right.
The next morning I opened my suitcase to check. To my shock I found
that the egg had hatched. And what had emerged from the egg was neither
bird, nor reptile. Indeed it looked like a cat except that it had wings
like a bird. And what do you know the animal could talk. In a clear
voice it said, "I want milk and cornflakes. At once." I rushed to the
kitchen and brought milk and cornflakes for the newborn from there. Of
course I had to lie to my factotum. Once the curious animal had
finished eating and belching rudely I asked him the all-important
question, "What are you?" Well, it smartly said, "I am a cat. Can't you
see that you dimwit?" Obviously the cat had a short temper and no
identity crisis at all. "What about the wings?" I asked. "Well what
about them" was the reply. And that is how Zombie became a member of my
family. Don't blame me for the name, "Zombie", it was the cat's idea.
He bonded very well with the cook. They went to the market together.
Zombie would be concealed inside a big bag. He always knew which
vegetable was good and which meat was bad. When the twosome passed the
fish tray Zombie always pilfered one or two for future consumption. I
am lucky that I lived in a secluded area. Because, in six months Zombie
assumed the size and shape of a proper household cat. What is more he
began flying over the forest where he was found. He would kill birds
and bring them home. Before he ate the birds with relish he would share
the story of the day's exploits with his friend, the cook. And that is
how his troubles began.
My closest neighbour Mr Joy Roy breeds pigeons. He does not enter his
birds into competitions but loves them dearly. Mr Roy's pigeons often
fly over the forest specially during the romantic mating season. A week
back Zombie killed one of Roy's pigeons. He brought the bird home and
told the cook how stupid the bird was and how easy to kill. The next
day he killed another pigeon and related the story of the hunt smirking
all the way. The day after Mr Roy followed his pigeons and saw the
flying, hunting cat from the ground. He fainted naturally but when he
gained consciousness he knew what to do. Yesterday, people from the
NCF, that is, the National Council for Freaks visited us. Zombie abused
them in the filthiest language possible and made lewd gestures. But his
fate was sealed. The NCF took him away and they phoned me this morning
to say that a deluxe room has been allotted to Zombie at the NCF
headquarters. I will surely miss him.