Tiny, Tiny Hungers

The alien sprawled in my lap, purring. Her thick hair, matted into Rastafarian-like dreads, made my legs sweat. Today, she'd adopted the appearance of a bedraggled and neglected Maine Coon cat. Yesterday, it had been that of a Donskoy, a hairless cat breed that reminded me of Mr. Bigglesworth in that old Austin Powers movie."It looks like another beautiful day in paradise, David. We should head to the beach," Ferrneeak, my alien captor, said as she stared at me with her three eyes. The one in the middle of her forehead, of course, the most unnerving. "You need some sun and I could do with a swim."She could've just as easily mind-sent her conversation, but chose to practice her English.