(I was trying to write. And I couldn’t. So I scribbled out a couple of concepts instead. Here is the first installment; I call it The Cat.)
Change clinked in her pocket, a satisfyingly metallic sound as she heaved each foot forward, tottering up towards her flat; the Cat mewed plaintively as it twisted round her ankles, flowing between her legs like some kind of preposterous liquid as she struggled up the steps under the weight of her heavy grocery bag. Ah, home. The gutter was leaking. Must fix that, she thought, before sighing inwardly at the flaking paint and slightly cracked window that greeted her. She wheedled her key into the door lock with almost scientific precision, praying to God that it would actually work this time; The key rattled into the lock and turned, slowly, almost mutinously, before jamming to a halt with all the finality of dust settling after a demolition.
‘Well. Crap.’ She muttered, running her free hand through her hair in exasperation- she dumped the now partially tearing grocery bag down onto the doormat with a hopeless kind of thud. Aha! Thought the cat. A BAG TO FUCK AROUND IN LIKE THE SMALL TIGER I AM! At least, that’s what she assumed was going on in that pea sized brain of his. Sighing, she sunk to the floor and leaned against the rusted iron railings edging the stairs. They gave a creaking warning of protestation at her additional weight, before sinking back into a disgruntled quiet. Cold radiated upwards from the damp concrete, yet not unpleasantly- She sank into it’s chilling embrace, finding pleasure in the numbness flowing through her extremities. It had been a
The cat nudged gently at her folded knees, before boldly (if somewhat haphazardly) scaling the contours of her body in order to curl up, snugly, in her lap- he batted playfully at the tassles of her scarf, a reverberating ball of purring and warmth.
‘Stupid fucking thing’ she muttered affectionately, before tickling behind his ears.