Flash Fictions by Benjamin D. Togate

Meow

"Hey there little one" she said in the sweetest voice. Sweet like sugar, or better yet, warm goatmilk. I looked up, still half asleep and suddenly fully awake. There she was. Like an angel in black. Black shirt, black hair, black eyes - and a cheeky smile.

"What are you doing out here, all alone?" she whispered, her nose almost touching mine.

I knew instantly, there was no danger to expect from her. And I wanted to tell her everything.

How hard my short life had been thus far. How I was born at the side of the road in a patch of dirt. How cold some nights were, but my brothers kept me warm. How my mother vanished, when we were just old enough to survive. How we stayed alive by the mere grace of strangers - but never knew which ones would give us food and which ones would chase us away with sticks and stones.

How my siblings went missing, one by one, never to return again. I hoped at least some of them found a dry place to sleep and maybe even a home for themselves. I know I hadn't. I wasn't sure if I would ever find such a place. Experience the warmth of a fireplace, the softness of a real bed and learning to trust that all touches were good.

I got so used to the coldness, the hunger and the constant fear, that I found happiness in the smallest things. Like the warmth of the metallbox I was sleeping on today and the first sunshine of spring. Or this sweet voice talking to me.

I wanted to tell her all that. But I couldn't.

Instead I said "Meow" and pushed my nose into her arm, longing for a gentle stroke.

"There there, little stray, let me take you home" she said, pulling me closer.