WELCOME HOME
The slow drip in the kitchen sink went ting for the thousandth time.
She sat by the window, waiting for her boy. Snapshots of summer flashed in her
memory: riding in the car with the
windows down, throwing a ball in the back yard, running on the beach, and
falling asleep together to the crickets’ song.
She closed her eyes for a moment and just missed him.
At the sound of the school bus, her white, long-haired tail thumped
the floor rhythmically. Then came the
boy’s footsteps on the gravel outside. She
stood up and danced, her claws clacking on the floorboards.
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