She looked at me with her brown eyes like craters.
“Can you take kitty for a while?”
Somewhere along the way it stopped meowing, but I didn’t realize then what it meant.
We stopped at the park and sat on the kerb.
It was so tiny, that it fit snugly between her five-year-old hands. Slowly, I took the furry ball away from her. Patches of hair clung to her sweater.
I’d thought the act of carrying the creature home would help her feel responsible for it.
“He’s asleep,” I mumbled.
I had to carry the dead cat for fifteen more blocks.
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