What a fun exercise.

This is my first time participating in one of the exercises as well, but I'm a cat fan so had to give it a go. It doesn't have a title, and it's a little rough, but it was only 15 minutes (okay so I did 20) and I pounded it out. It was fun - thank you!!

Here it is:

Every afternoon, I trudge down the stairs, out the door, into

the cold wind, and hail a cab for the drive to work. Then, eight and a half

hours later, I climb the stairs out of the steam pipe retaining room where I

work, brave the now-frigid temperatures, hail a cab for the drive home, and stash

the $65.50 I get every day from working under the table. Nothing ever changes.

At least, until yesterday.

There’s a small alley by my apartment building which houses

overflowing garbage containers, their mix of spoiled eggs, week old diapers,

and Chinese food somehow still potent in the constant winter. It was there, on

my way home, I distinguished the feral howl from the familiar scream of the

wind.

I hate to admit it, but I don’t put anything past my

neighbors. So, being the mostly decent person I like to think I am, I tiptoed

back there just to be sure it wasn’t a kid forgotten or deliberately placed

where someone wouldn’t find it.

It wasn’t. It was louder, though, than any kid I’d ever

heard.

A small orange cat hung by a single bleeding paw from a

broken gutter. His fur was freezing over from the ice melt in the gutter it was

so cold, and his tail hung limp, inches from the pavement. His evergreen eyes were

dangerous, but pained. I inched closer. He yowled.

“C’mon, fella,” I reached toward him as he hissed. “I’m not

gonna leave you out here to freeze to death.” I recalled painfully how a

neighbor called to notify me last month that my mother was found incoherent,

outside in the snow, nearly hypothermic.

It took some convincing, but cats are smart, and it wasn’t

too long before I had him warming up by the fire in my apartment with a small

blanket and some chicken.

We were both feeling pretty good and content with the

evening, so I took a minute to shower and change, making sure he had water and

some gum wrappers to play with.

The pounding on the door minutes later had us both a little

spooked.

“Eli, I want your rent money, now! Do you hear me?” That darn landlord was pestering me again. Didn’t

he know I was doing some good in the world this evening? “You’re a month behind

and I don’t want any more of your excuses!”

This time, he was serious. I heard him fit the key in the

door and barge in yelling all sorts of threats and curses.

The little cat stared at him under the table. In fact, it

looked like it was getting irritated if a cat can look irritated.

“Eli, I’m warning you. Go in that bedroom of yours and pull

out that wad of cash I know your stashing. I don’t care if you say it’s to get

your mother nursing care – you’re lying. No one’s that nice!”

Before I could protest, flames erupted from beneath the

table. The table itself was turned over and revealed a brilliant orange and

green dragon, fire spitting from his mouth encircling my landlord.

“It’s you! It’s you, from my dream!” my landlord’s whisper

carried over the hissing flames.

Not knowing where it came from, the cat-dragon responded. “Then

you know why I am here.”

My landlord looked at me his eyes like silver dollars and

his face paler than the frost on my window.

“Yes, I know. But I didn’t believe – it was just a dream!”

The flames intensified, making me very drowsy. The last

thing I recall was the baritone voice of the dragon speaking again to my

landlord and he in turn, bowing and backing out the door, unharmed.

When I woke this morning, the orange cat was sleeping on top

of my head, purring. There was a note on my nightstand, forgiving me my late

rent, and inviting my mother and me to dinner.