A morning after (8 a.m., room 304)
Oct. 18th, 2005 08:49 amThe first thing Angela notices when she wakes up is that something is staring at her.
She closes her eyes and wills for it not to be there when she opens them again. Doesn't work -- the same yellow-grey eyes and furry face are still looming over her own.
Groggily, she realizes that a)it's a cat. The cat she adopted; b)it's probably hungry; and c)she is not alone in the bed. But at least it's *her* bed for once.
She prods the lump that is Marty with a careful forefinger. "Hey," she whispers into his ear. "Morning. Cat wants food. Can you talk?"
It's *almost* complete sentences.
She closes her eyes and wills for it not to be there when she opens them again. Doesn't work -- the same yellow-grey eyes and furry face are still looming over her own.
Groggily, she realizes that a)it's a cat. The cat she adopted; b)it's probably hungry; and c)she is not alone in the bed. But at least it's *her* bed for once.
She prods the lump that is Marty with a careful forefinger. "Hey," she whispers into his ear. "Morning. Cat wants food. Can you talk?"
It's *almost* complete sentences.