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Post by matthew james newbury on May 15, 2013 17:10:20 GMT
 As irrational as this might have sounded, sometimes Matthew wished he could live the life of a feline. Think about it. Cats slept for, on average, 16 hours a day. The rest of the time was spent eating, being showered with affection, and chasing a bird or two. That sounded like a nice, quiet, relaxing life, free of trauma and stress. His life so far had been the opposite, really. It wasn't that he was stressed, and didn't have time. No, it was merely the fact that he'd been in a bad place a few times in the past, and come on. It didn't seem like cats got those. Their lives were so simple, it really wasn't fair.
It was weird how quickly everything had changed for him, though. Strangely encouraging, quite terrifying, but most definitely... weird. It felt like he was just having a nerdgasmic dream because he'd fallen asleep whilst reading Harry Potter or something, and that he'd wake up, curled up in his bed and worrying about what the next day would bring. At least, it'd been like that at first. He'd known for a little over a year, now, so he'd become far more accustomed to the existence of magic than some people might consider healthy. But, still. He had those lucid moments where he thought he was dreaming, that if he pinched himself hard enough, he'd wake up again. Not that he wanted to, of course.
He had a half day that day, what with being one of the older students in the school. It wasn't as if he was studying much in the first place - it was just the year that he'd kind of missed studying his A levels that he was repeating, anyway. All he had to do was his Music course, the English Literature course that he'd opted for, his History lessons and the Spanish lessons. He had the rest of the day off to "study", but no one did that. It wasn't as if he really needed to, anyway. He was clever enough to get by. Anyway, revision was for weekends.
So, this afternoon, he was laid out on the grass on the Front Lawn, letting the sunlight warm his skin. Of course, he hadn't left his cats behind. They were all there - Mog curled up on his stomach, Blighty looking for fuss and pushing his head against the boy's hand, and Ricotta having taken an interest in his untied shoelaces, batting them around playfully between his paws. They all seemed to be quite contented, and if they were, so was Matt. As easily pleased as the fifth year was, it was easy enough to be happy if his pets were happy.
 Outfit: Clicky!
Tagged: Smokey!
Notes: :3
Lyrics: We Are the Young by McFly
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