The Crazy Cat Lady, Snowball, and the Pink Coin

Editor’s note: In Creative Writing I class, we used a product called Writer Igniter to generate writing prompts. Katelynn Bos, the author of this piece, enjoyed the process very much, and it shows in her writing.

It was around eight in the morning when I woke up. I got out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen where I made myself a hot cup of coffee. Then, I clumsily made my way to the couch where I happily drank my beverage. It tends to be hard to walk sometimes, when you have thirty-seven cats constantly around your feet. Around town, I am known as the “Crazy Cat Lady.” Personally, I see them as friends or even family. We eat together, play together, and talk about our day. I have had a lonely life, so everywhere I go I bring one cat with me. They act as a sort of comfort.

After I was done with my coffee, breakfast and made sure all the cats were fed, I chose Snowball to come with me. Snowball and I were off to a museum. The museum featured old coins and war artifacts. There would even be an area of the museum where we could touch the artifacts. When Snowball and I were ready, we set off on our adventure.

The museum was wonderful and everything was going perfectly. Then we came to the area where we could touch some artifacts. One of the instructors held up a coin.

“This coin is the only one in existence to have the pink coloration,” he said. He then handed it to one of the spectators by him. Everyone took a turn studying the coin before passing it to the next person. By the time it got to me, no one was paying attention and other artifacts were being passed around. I took a good look at the coin; it was marvelous. I then gently placed it back on the table.

Snowball sat in my handbag for the entirety of the tour and slept. At the conclusion of the tour, a manager from the museum approached my tour guide. The manager announced that an artifact had been lost. He said it was the pink coin, and my tour group had to be searched. I knew they would not like the fact that I had brought Snowball with me, so I went up to the manager and said I needed to go home immediately for my afternoon medication. He looked at my bag and asked what was in it.

I simply said, “It’s just a watch and my pocket book.” He allowed me to leave.

When I got home, I took Snowball, who was still asleep, out of my bag and placed him on the floor. I was about to put my bag on its hanger when something shiny caught my eye at the bottom. I opened it up and took a closer look. It was the pink coin. I was confused at how it had gotten into my bag and then I looked at Snowball. He must have knocked it into my bag after I set it on the table.

I knew I was going to have to turn it in, but also that trouble would be unavoidable. I created a plan which included my handbag, a broom, and a cliff. I knew it would be hard to carry out flawlessly but it was my only chance. The worst part of the plan was that I couldn’t bring a cat with me.

I changed my clothes from those I had on before, put the coin into my pocket, grabbed a small broom and my handbag, and headed out the door. There was a cliff about half a mile away from my house. I knew that if I was going to return the coin I needed to get rid of my handbag, since the manager had noticed it previously. I arrived at the cliff in no time. My plan was working, so far. I put my handbag on the end of the broom and swung it as hard as I could. I watched as it fell into the ocean. I then headed back to my house where I waited, with my cats, until it was dark.

As soon as it was dark, I started off toward the museum. Once I arrived, I placed the pink coin by the front door. Surely, when a worker would arrive the next morning, they would see it and realize what it was. My plan had been carried out perfectly. I headed back home and went straight to bed, with my thirty-seven cats. I hardly slept the entire night, worried that somehow they would figure out my doings. I was glad that my suspicious handbag was gone.

A few weeks passed and news of the coin’s return had circulated. I was relieved to hear they were no longer looking for suspects. This is what I have learned from this experience: Do not take Snowball to a museum.

For more information on Writer Igniter, please visit Here is the screen shot of the prompt served to Katelynn.

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