I woke up early this morning.
They're renovating a parking lot right next to my apartment. Maybe the gentle hum of civil engineering filtered through the noise insulation disturbed me. Maybe my internal clock is finally setting in. Or it's simply one of those days.
I skipped breakfast anyway. I'm not hungry in the morning, never have been. Packed my lunch, hopped in my car and left.
I took the usual road. Went by the usual roundabout, to the usual street. I wonder if she'll talk to me today? In the distance was a black, formless thing. It seemed to move as if carried by the wind. A garbage bag, maybe? The car in front of me moved aside and went past it. I did the same.
The garbage bag had eyes. Something was on the ground. I went past it, and turned right. Why would a cat be carried by the wind?
I passed the school. Why would it play on the road? Was it catnip on the ground? Catnip is green—not pink or reddish. It did not look like playing. No, it obviously was not playing.
It's too late to go back now. I could have stopped, if'd been sharper. Would I have stopped? I don't even know a vet around. I don't think it needs a vet at this point. Make it quicker?
Who am I kidding? I could kill a chicken, surely. A rabbit, maybe. A dog, even. I could never kill a cat.
It's probably dead now. I hope it is, anyway. I wish it had been.
I'm sorry.