Thursday, July 15, 2010

bitter milk, pt. 3




As Winston drove home later that evening, he saw Rosalind frolicking in a random yard with another kitten, thrashing on a piece of errant cardboard. He stopped, got out and picked her up.

"Well now how'd you get out?" He asked her as he carried her into the car. She hopped out of his arms and onto the side seat where she promptly shook the water out of her coat. He drove the few blocks home and carried her inside. The meat and milk were both gone.

He heard some scratchings at the door; it was the kitten Rosalind was playing with. Winston let her in and she immediately found her way to Rosie. Winston got them a large saucer of milk to share and grabbed himself a bottle of booze and tossed the cap out into the middle of the floor. He didn't feel like caring right now.

"It's crazy out there, Rosie. The water in the Midwest just went bad. Killed off lots of people. They're rationing off the water and everyone's rioting. They're blaming terrorists."

The kittens ignored him, drinking up the milk like they knew the world was going to hell and they didn't need to be reminded of it every day.

"Well, at least they didn't say the water here was poisoned." Winston drank up. "I'm kinda tired of the news." He stared at the two kittens, having a grand old time just with themselves. "So, I wonder who your friend is, Rosie." He paused. "I think I'll call her Nicole." No response. They kept on lapping up the milk.

By the end of the evening the other kitten had fallen asleep and Rosie was rubbing her ear like she was strumming a bleak melody on a guitar.

 Winston sat, deep in thought, trying to force his eyes to focus.

"You ever feel like . . . like something's wrong?"



"Mow."



"I dunno, I feel like I've been in the city too long. You know? Like, I need to get out, enjoy the fresh air. You want to go camping? I might not be able to bring your kitten friend."


Rosie stopped playing.

"Yeah, yeah, I might as well go by myself, finish up that book, just me and the stars, yada yada yada."
 He staggered to his feet and pulled his jacket on. "It's nice out. I'm going to go walk and think." Rosalind gave him a weird look and he smiled tiredly. "Don't worry, Rosie, I won't do anything stupid. I know you'd hate to see me get hurt." He winked and ducked out the door. Rosie opted against giving chase.

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