Rosetta Post-its by Guy Biederman

Los Gatos Tienen Hambre, says the post-it on the fridge.

Since when did the cats learn Spanish, since when did they learn to write?

The same could be asked of you, says another post-it.

You tighten the belt on your bathrobe. You were House Samurai in a previous life, but the cats as writers, now roommates who borrow your stuff and leave snarky notes?

Stick to what you know, says a post-it: thank you-notes, grocery lists, and poems that rhyme with dime. Leave speculative fiction to the pros.

You take back your pen. The post-its you stole from work sit on the counter with notes in languages you don’t even speak—

Anymore . . . says a post-it, claw and ink.

A black tail curls from under the curtain.

Two orange ears rise pyramid-like from behind the microwave.

You pull out organic turkey burgers and sprinkle carefully clipped kitty grass onto bite-sized morsels placed on heirloom plates… and write your own post-it: Satisfied?!

You find your favorite mug and reach for Mr. Coffee.

Such a good boy, says a post-it on the sugar bowl in what must be cuneiform.

And how you know this, you dare not ask.

Btw, you’re out of cream.

Guy Biederman is a card carrying genius with a fake ID. He’s the author of Translated From The Original: one-inch punch fiction, and five other books of short prose and poetry. He’s hooked on coffee, speedbags, and after dinner mints, but can quit anytime. Guy lives on a houseboat in Sausalito and walks the planks daily.