She walked some more on the soft pine needles until at last she found an old nest, maybe a squirrel's, maybe a skunk's, maybe a porcupine's it's hard to tell when a nest has gone unused for a long time, and this one surely had. She should have been worried in the falling dark. She should have been concerned about the lightning, slicing the drops of rain in two and electrifying the air. She walked and walked, farther and farther from the red dirt road. The pine needles were soft beneath her feet she heard the water splash onto the puddles all around, noticed the evening roll in, the sky grow darker. Here in this old forest where the rain slipped between the branches and settled into her fur. Something about a car, something about a long drive. How long has she been walking? Hours? Days? She wasn't even sure how she got here, so far from the town where she grew up. Her family, the one she lived with, has left her in this old and forgotten forest, this forest where the rain is soaking into her soft fur. THERE IS NOTHING lonelier than a cat who has been loved, at least for a while, and then abandoned on the side of the road.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |