A Tortoiseshell Named George


As X remained on the floor of her apartment, a cat from next door was climbing the drainpipe on the outside wall. It was a nimble thing— a tortoiseshell named George of which the other neighbouring cats held in high regard. Clamouring upwards, he lifted himself onto the windowsill before looking down on those below. There were several other cats; some were his brothers and sisters, while others were merely his friends. There were also two dogs belonging to an old man living on the ground floor as well as a handful of squirrels and rodents and three magpies who were hopping about and scouring the ground for all things shiny. All at once they had gathered, aware that someone was in need of their help. And not just anyone, but a girl they had often been drawn to but of whom they had been too afraid to approach, for she was a beautiful creature indeed, and just the sight of her was enough to leave them feeling giddy and shy. But here was George, whipping his tail as he balanced precariously letting those below know that he had safely made it. Careful not to lose his footing, he squinted his eyes and bowed his head, and as he looked through the window, he could see the pretty girl he knew as X. It wasn’t her real name of course, but he couldn’t pronounce her real name, for he was just a cat after all. Surveying the scene, he could see she wasn’t moving, and that by the side of her head there appeared to be a pool of blood. Not a significant amount by any means, but blood was blood, and it had no place to be where it was. Pushing his whiskers and nose close against the glass, he could see her chest rise ever so slightly. Then he could hear her cries; those tiny exhausted sobs that reminded him of the squeaking mice he sometimes chased around the garden. Understanding what was to be done, he shimmied his paws and turned to face the gathered animals. Speaking to them with a sense of authority that came from being the oldest, and therefore the wisest, he demanded they follow him inside, for there within was the one who needed their help, and with that, he leapt up and disappeared through the open window. Seconds later, the rest eagerly followed his lead.

A Journal for Damned Lovers UK

A Journal for Damned Lovers US

Anthology UK / Anthology US

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