Bab 371: One-Sided Conversation

There was a single hard, harsh clunk of a bell… and Mrs. White slowly approached from a rustle in a bush, squeaking always a gentler meow than Black's.

With small beady eyes that seemed to see nothing, she raised her paws over and against my knees, tentatively sniffing the air around me, before again, she meowed once more - hello.

My fingers lightly stroke the fluffy whites of her mane, greeting back. By now, I've gotten used to how cold she felt to the touch beneath the fur. I also noticed with my every visit, it was always the same bush she would wander out from.

A small makeshift hut of short leaves and thin twigs, that was her home. Has it always been, I wonder? When I'd visit alone on the bench, when the inseparable pair of Black and White came over to lift my spirits, was this where they'd always been waiting?

When I wasn't here, they were here, doing whatever it is cats do in a pair, playing with one another, grooming each other, sleeping together.