A/N 1: This chapter is dedicated to obamagirl and skittles4me2, who have both been my champions of cyberspace. I am privileged to have such chevaliers gallants.
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CHAPTER FOUR: HURT LIKE SORROW
Home of Connie Rubirosa, Brooklyn, NY
11:02PM Friday, July 27, 2012
It was hungry.
For the first time, since it had come to be.
When it first woke up, it had seemed as though it was lying on a bed made of food. Warm, wafting on a gentle breeze, so many fragrances.
It had tried to eat, but the food wasn't good. Back then it had been too young to recognise garbage.
Garbage. It would never again resort to eating garbage.
After coming to be, it was small and weak. The hot sun burnt it, other creatures scared it. Time seemed to run in an endless circle of nothing and no-one. Only a legion of discomfort and solitude.
Now it had found work and its needs were being taken care of. Watching from the corners, it saw how things were supposed to be and made sure they stayed that way. Nothing out of place.
And in return it was served. Sweet things, good things. More than enough.
But now it was hungry, and the feeling hurt like sorrow. Why had the good sweet cream been rinsed away? Why were the nice smells locked behind the big metal?
Why was the house so quiet and lonely even though his mistress was home?
For the umpteenth time tonight, it made its rounds of the house, looking for something to set right, some evidence that its efforts were appreciated and rewarded. The soft cooing sounds it made as it worked were lost in the creaks and rustles and jangles of the neighbourhood. As before, it eventually trundled back to its nest under the sink in the laundry room. So warm, so clean smelling.
Combing its coat soothingly with trembling claws, it slept.
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A/N 2: "Ask and ye shall receive". I'm asking for reviews, I hope I'll receive them.
WORDS: 345 UPLOADED Saturday, October 27, 2012