Walking the cat 📝

We are in the forest, when my cat stops walking. “Come, Luna, you know the way,” I tell her. But no amount of asking can make her move. She looks at me and utters a quiet meow. She looks to the left of the forest path, hisses once, and turns around.

So we walk back the way we have come.

“Good morning, neighbor,” the lady from above says to me, “Have you heard the news yet?” “No, what news and good morning?” “They found the body of Peter yesterday in the forest not far from your walking route. His body was half-eaten. They only recognized it by his chest tattoos!”

I’m stunned into silence. Luna meows, and I look at her, and she looks back knowingly.

• /writing
• /summer
• /forest