Wednesday, July 21, 2010

bitter milk, pt. 6

It was dark. Rosalind and Nicole were snuggling against each other. Rosalind stood up suddenly and snuck out. Nicole blinked her eyes, stretched out a paw towards Rosalind, but made no effort to stop her.

It was raining outside and Rosalind's fur was completely drenched by the time she made it past Winston's lawn. She was cold and shivering, but she had somewhere in mind that she wanted to be. All of her instincts screamed at her to go back inside to the warmth, but kittens, like humans, only listen to instinct when it's bad for them.

Rosalind found herself back in front of the theatre where Winston found her. Rosalind used to live with a woman, a gifted actress, a lesbian, a hipster, a post-rock jammer wannabe, but one day when the theatre shut down she was just the woman who abandoned Rosalind on the theatre's front steps. Winston walked by and saw her and scooped her up and the rest, as they say, is history. But then, they say a lot of things.

The door was open, interestingly, and Rosalind walked inside. She made her way through the darkness, down the sloped alleyway inbetween the rows of chairs. She made it to the stage, rolled around in the dirt and the strewn, torn fabrics. Then she heard footsteps and she turned around and there was the woman who had abandoned her. Rosalind was shocked for a moment, enough time for the woman to reach her and pick her up.

"My, you're a pretty kitty." Didn't she remember those nights they had together? Did they mean nothing? Rosalind felt like hissing, felt like clawing at her, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Rosalind gave into instinct and snuggled into the woman's arms. She'd lay there forever, taking in the darkness and the memories for as long as the woman would stand it.

Or, at least, that was the plan.

But instead, at the moment, exactly seven minutes past three o'clock in the morning on the Thursday five days before the end of the world--or, depending on your perspective, very late on Wednesday--the ground started shaking and the woman dropped Rosalind and once again, she ran away.

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