Susanna's Cats

Susanna drummed her heels against the shredded chair she sat in, blowing on her hands to stay warm. Snow was falling outside, and the abandoned boxcar she called home didn’t provide much shelter. I’ll have to find a new place to stay before winter sets in, she thought. Just then, there was a knock.
“Delivery for Susanna?” A man carrying a mewing crate peeked around the dilapidated planks of wood.
“Yeah, that’s me,” she growled, no longer feeling the need to appear either cute or innocent. After a century spent walking among the mortals, this act of playing young all the time was beginning to wear on her. “Are those…?” she asked, leaning forward slightly.
“‘To Susanna, with thanks,’” he read out, putting the box down.
“That’ll be all,” she said shortly. The man turned and left, leaving the strange child with the adult voice and the kittens behind him.
In the boxcar, Susanna lifted the kittens into her lap, cooing with joy as their fur began to glow. “There there, my pretties. You’re home.”

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