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The tenth life of a Cat

“Get out! You lazy bitch!” The man yelled and the cat shot out dodging a whisky bottle that smashed at the doorway.

The old dun-colored cat refuged behind the dustbins across the street, watchful of her master reeling through the hallway until he slammed the door. Her deep scars whispered to her that this was the last time and the door will remain shut forever. The mulish cat refused to accept it and lingered for weeks in the outskirts of the property, hoping that her meows could soften the heart of her master and grant her a loaf of breath or a place next to the heater.

Her scars were right.

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Hush Little Baby

He woke up sweat soaked. With the bone-chilling sensation of little fingers tighten around his throat. Mary, his girlfriend, slept placidly beside him. He cleared his throat and came out of bed straight to the bathroom.

The man in the mirror was haggard and not even the cold stream of water could refresh it. He rolled a towel and stuck it in the gap between the door and floor. He reached a pack of cigarettes taped below the sink, lighted one with his quivering hands and stood on tip toes to blow the smoke through the high window.

He felt guilty.

He was ashamed of himself.

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