Essay / Avant-Garde

Cat in Rocket

cat in rocket ride Wheeee, I’m a cat in a rocket! I’m zooming around at high speeds, a feline making a beeline (if you will). No stopping this cat, no sir. I’m just zooming around and around and… hey, why am I zooming around? I’m just going in circles! I’m — I’m– I’m on a rocket ride at an amusement park! I’m bolted to a spinning hub with other merrymakers in their own rocket rides.

Well, that’s not so bad, come to think of it, though it’s hardly slipping the surly bonds of earth and dancing the skies on laughter-silvered wings, if you get my drift. But it is a nice afternoon here at Meowsyland, the meowiest place on earth. And what could be better than that?

Oh, maybe climbing up, up the long, delirious, burning blue and topping the wind-swept heights with easy grace? Yeah, that’d be cool. But the rocket ride’s zoomy too. And I can get an $8 churro here, which you can’t get in space.

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