A Picture, A Scene, A Kitty Cold

“Where are you gonna go?”
He shrugged, kicked his shoe in the dirt until he made a small hole.  ”Guess I’ll go wherever I think they’ll need me.”
“But what about this?” With the sweep of a hand she motioned to everything: the house they’d grown up in, the orchard, the wood, the flower beds, and the pool, still glittering in the sun like nothing ever happened.
Again, just a shrug.  He glanced at her sideways and she pulled her knees up, wrapped her thin arms around them like they were all she had.
“And what about me?  What I am gonna do?”
“The same.  Go where you can, find some kind of work.  Leave this all behind.”  
She let out a sob- just one loud, heartbroken cry that came from somewhere deeper than her lungs, her throat, her mouth.  They were silent a moment, listening to the world turning around them, the wind blowing through the trees.  She stood with a sigh and walked toward the door.  ”We best be goin’ then.  Come on.”
For the last time, he followed.

Everyone in our house has a cold.  Me, David, Le Chat.  Can cats get human colds?  I don’t know, but she seems drippy and slow like the both of us.  Good thing kitty sneezes are the cutest, I guess.

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