The Stray

     My footsteps echoed in-between the hollow mountains of the city. The moon had been dancing across the sky for some time so the streets were deserted. The only feet that shuffled along the cold cement belonged to those that had the light burn their retinas when the bars announced closing time. 

    I was among them. The back of my throat still burned from the rum. I glanced up and saw a familiar sign above a doorway. I hadn't realized I had walked by our favorite restaurant. Must have been force of habit. My stomach churned. Probably just due to the alcohol that filled it but I still shoved my face down into the turned up collar of my coat, all the same. 

    I quickened my pace. I wanted to make sure I got back home while I still had enough booze swimming in my veins to pass out. After all, I wasn't sure how much was in the bottle in the cabinet above my sink. I felt the wet coolness of rain drops on the back of my neck. The sensation blared, shattering the fog in my head. Instantly my senses woke back up much to my chagrin. 

    A faint sound drifted toward my ears but I shrugged my shoulders and kept on walking. The sound came again louder and with more demand. Still I paid it no heed until it became such a presence that the anonymous oblivion I wallowed in was lost. 

    I turned my head with a sharp swivel and saw a fluffy feline as black as my soul. "Scat," I muttered. The cat let out a forlorn mew. The creature wore no collar so I assumed a stray but the coat of fur was exquisite which made me less sure of my assumption. Either way, I had no business with persons anymore, feline or otherwise. I continued my trek.

    The pathetic meow came again. This time I came to an abrupt stop and spun around. "Get lost! I'm a loner, can't you see that's my lot. Find someone else who has a shred of hope to cling to." I began my solitary walk once more. I heard the calls behind me continue but it didn't matter. I was almost back to the walls which passed these days for a space for me to lose consciousness and feel a temporary relief. I climbed the exterior steps as I fumbled in my pocket for my keys. As I heard the mechanical click that served as my only greeting I opened the door to my abode.

    Before I could enter a blur of motion rushed past me. I flipped on the light and as I forced my eyes to adjust through the pain I saw the black fur ball curled up on her favorite pillow. The one she used to clutch to herself during scary movies and rest her beautiful curls on during an afternoon nap. The very pillow I had sewn for her as a gift. The cat seemed as content as she used to be on that soft cushion. 

    At first I wanted to throw the fur ball right off the pillow and out the window. How dare this intruder violate the relics of her. But as I watched gentle and peaceful breathing of the cat the moisture that stung my eyes stopped me. As I closed the door behind me I whispered, "goodnight," before turning off the light.