Eighteen. New apartment. New job. Two cats, one her mother’s and one her own. Different job. Got a raise. Moved to the good part of town. Sneaked in her cats. Kicked out, tried again. Home everyday at four. Five boyfriends, only one whom she believed in. Boots died. Sadness clogged the air. She took Whiskers camping. Whiskers loved the pines. Found a new job, moved up north. Bought a house. She walked with Whiskers in the woods. She thought of Boots. Two more years, and then Whiskers died. A box on her doorstep. A little orange cat.
Starting over once again.