Heat-Haze Days
It was August 15th, and the weather was nice. A bit too warm for my taste, though. Idle chatter decorated our lips as we exchanged pleasant, meaningless words.
"But I think I kinda hate summer," You muttered. I nodded in agreement, stroking the cat in your arms absentmindedly, my brain working overtime to process information in this sickening heat haze. The only thing alerting me to come out of my thoughts was the feeling of the cat jumping out of your arms, then my hand brushing against my arm in a failed attempt to save you from chasing after it.
She really does love that thing... I thought, watching as you ran your fastest to stop it from stepping in front of a truck's path.
Before I'd even realized what had happened, your blood painted the streets and the citizens passing by, my screams resounding. The last image in my brain before everything blackened was the mysterious gleam of a cat's eyes.