Thursday, December 13, 2012
A Picture, A Scene, A Kitty Cold
"Where are you gonna go?"
He shrugged, kicked his shoe in the dirt until he made a small hole. "Guess I'll go wherever I think they'll need me."
"But what about this?" With the sweep of a hand she motioned to everything: the house they'd grown up in, the orchard, the wood, the flower beds, and the pool, still glittering in the sun like nothing ever happened.
Again, just a shrug. He glanced at her sideways and she pulled her knees up, wrapped her thin arms around them like they were all she had.
"And what about me? What I am gonna do?"
"The same. Go where you can, find some kind of work. Leave this all behind."
She let out a sob- just one loud, heartbroken cry that came from somewhere deeper than her lungs, her throat, her mouth. They were silent a moment, listening to the world turning around them, the wind blowing through the trees. She stood with a sigh and walked toward the door. "We best be goin' then. Come on."
For the last time, he followed.
Everyone in our house has a cold. Me, David, Le Chat. Can cats get human colds? I don't know, but she seems drippy and slow like the both of us. Good thing kitty sneezes are the cutest, I guess.
Labels:
Writing
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment