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Short Story: And Along Came A Cat

This story is a bit different than most I write. All Wattpad Stars were invited to submit a short story (max 3,500 words, which is a bit bigger than most of my chapters), and Wattpad was going to pick several for an Anthology. There were a lot of awesome entries, and unfortunately, mine wasn't picked, but I figured I'd share it here. My first-ever short story.

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The morning was overcast and grey as a shabbily dressed man limped down the street. Most of those passing by detoured around the homeless man, not sparing him a glance. Earl was used to it - it had been his life for the last three years.

A doorway ahead opened, and an elderly lady with curlers in her hair leaned out on her cane. "Earl, right on time."

"Good Morn'in, Ma'am." He stopped by the bottom of the steps.

A black garbage bag was tossed down the stairs. Her strength wasn't what it used to be, and it rolled down the last two steps, stopping by his feet.

"Please be a gentleman and take that to the dumpster for me." Two coins clattered down the stairs; the customary two dollars she usually paid for this task.

"Sure thing, ma'am."

Earl tucked the money into his pocket before grabbing the bag in his left hand since his right was too maimed to carry it. He trudged into the back alley as rats scampered along the edges of the building, disappearing down tunnels and behind other junk dumped there. He managed to wrestle the bag into the opening of the bin, and it landed inside with a dull thud.

With his task done, he left the back alley. To his surprise, the woman was still standing in her doorway.

"Aye, Earl. Got 'nother job for you, if you want it."

"What kind of job, Ma'am?" He inquired cautiously. He wasn't as spry as he used to be, so some tasks were beyond him.

"Do you see that kitten over there?"

He turned around and saw a thin tabby kitten huddled up against a window. "The grey one?"

"It's been hanging around here for three days. Here's ten bucks to catch it and find a home for it. Even if you just stick it in a box and drop it at the animal shelter."

The bill twirled through the air, landing some distance from him. He shambled over and picked it up before turning to look at the sleeping kitten. This was one of the strangest requests he'd ever heard, although it would pay ten bucks. How hard could it be to catch a half-starved kitten?

"I'll try, Ma'am."

There were enough discarded boxes in the back alley to put it in once he caught it, so he walked closer, hoping it would ignore him as it had the other people going by.

He flexed the fingers on his right hand - or rather, tried to - they barely moved. Faded scars and disfigured joints were the only visible signs of the day a forklift had crushed his hand beyond repair. Taking a deep breath, he moved as quickly as he could, trying to grab the small feline before it realized what he was doing.

His fingers wrapped around its thin fur and boney ribs. Then, like a slippery bar of soap, the kitten managed to rocket out of his hands with all the speed of a lightning bolt.

Feeling the woman's eyes on him, he trudged down the back alley after the pint-sized tabby. It was still ahead of him, picking it's way across the puddles and around garbage scattered about. It looked back, saw him, and sped up.

Earl followed behind, waiting for it to go into hiding so he could pull it out. The tall brick buildings on either side of the alley formed a solid, unified front against anything that might possibly be trying to get through.