Stabbed by a Whisker

Okay, this is just bizarre. Walking barefoot through my apartment, I encountered something sharp in my carpet. Expecting perhaps a stray staple or splinter, I lifted my foot. There, sticking out of my toe, was a long, black cat whisker.

I never realized that a naturally shed whisker was so very sharp at the base. It didn't go deep enough to draw blood or anything, but it went through one or two layers of skin--just enough to stick.

I plucked it from my toe and looked closely, thinking that it was a bit like a quill. And as soon as I had that thought, I imagined tiny mouse-people or fairies dipping cat whiskers in ink and writing with them. Then I thought about the mouse-fairy whose job it was to go to places frequented by cats to collect shed whiskers, and what a dangerous job that might be.

I love this idea. I may have to use it in a story.