Spare Cat
There's this cat that hangs out outside the apartment complex. He runs up to me and pets himself with my hand when he sees me. I can't have a cat, because he would be a skeleton by the time I got back from a trip. But this one is kind of mine.
Since the dawn of man, all humans have known someone who had a friend who was a flight attendant. Here, now, I am that friend.
1 Comments:
What, no picture?
L.M.
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