Monday, November 22
Eight days passed. On the first few days, Cassandra sent cheerful notes to AS. She wrote about how playful 208 had been, how his beautiful orange eyes matched the autumn leaves, and how much she was looking forward to spending the winter in a warm place. But she got no response and finally (on the fourth day) she put away her spring-green 3 by 5 cards and dropped some clothes in front of the in-between door.
Not even the light came through.
On the 8th day, Cassandra went through her usual morning routine. She sat on the side of her bed and coughed up the phlegm that clogged her lungs each morning. Then she brushed the 28 teeth remaining in her mouth. Finally, she rolled up her pants leg and carefully washed and flushed away the black debris that had accumulated in the wound that never seemed to heal. She winced as she rolled her pants leg back over the wound.
All the while, The Cat Named 208 waited beside the in-between door, sticking her paws through the space and hoping that a green paw would shoot into her world. Cassandra walked to the door, put 208 in her lap, and wrote this note to AS, "The moon will be full tonight. We should watch it together. Me from my bathroom window and you from yours. 4:47PM. Is it a date? Cassandra"
x = y = x
YOU ARE READING
just follow the cat
General FictionHow would God respond to making a mistake? Would planets collide or mountains slide into the sea? Or would the ledger of all life simply remain out kilter until a series of small events forced that ledger back into balance again? It's probably the l...
