My cat has the runs. No big whoop, she’s a pretty clean cat. I guess, though, that accidents will happen. Stumbled out of bed this morning (well, rolled onto the floor is more like it). Navigate through all the clothes strewn on the floor, mentally tell myself that I really should fold them some time, and make my way to the kitchen. Brew myself a bowl of coffee, feed the cat, scratch my crotch, regular morning ritual. As I get back to my room, rummage around the clothes for something to wear, when I realise that, right next to one of the laundry piles, Frances has left a little gift. God, and I nearly walked right through it.
At least it’s better than the corpses of birds scattered all over the apartment that she used to bring in, accompanied with blood splatters, but it’s still not something I enjoy waking up to.
posted by Michel @ 10:29 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home