Kat and Moose

Tick. Tick clack tick. Tick clack scratch scratch tick tick clack scratch clack clack!

“MOOSE!” I yell at the top of my lungs. The American shorthair scurries away from his new toy at the sound. I scowl at him and kneel down to save the tattered remains of a pink feathered boa. A reminder of a night lived from the highest mountain tops and remembered from the lowest caverns. I sigh and drape the boa over the fan gracing the foot of my bed and walk away, hoping that the memories will leave… but they never do.

I’ve thrown away everything of hers. She left and there was no reason to keep all the painful reminders. I curse my own weakness every day for not being able to get rid of that silly pink feathered thing and that orange striped problem as well. I remember her bringing him home. He’s cute, isn’t he? Yeah…he is, Kat. Can we keep him? Of course, Kat. We’ll name him Moose! Haha, whatever you say, darling. I love you, y’know I love you too, Kat.

I lay on my bed, stare at the boa, pet Moose.

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