Henry Slesar 13 min read

His mother was a delicate Breton noblewoman; his father, he confesses at last, was a cat, a tale of an impossible marriage he's never quite dared to explain to his own human bride.

Henry Slesar's 1957 story is a charming, wry first-contact and social-SF fable of a most unusual heritage. Whimsical, clever golden-age SF. Read it for a delightful tall tale narrated by a man trying to admit the strange truth about his father to the woman he loves.

In its time

Published in 1957, during the 1950s, post-war optimism meets cold war anxiety.

Reading it

13 min read (a short story, a single idea, delivered and gone).