august, september, october 2023
in which she slinks back in with a shit-eating grin, hoping you'll forgive her
Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. You leave the door open just a fraction while you put the bin out and when you come back in, there I am, sitting by my food bowl with an injured look on my face, as if it hasn’t been three months since you last saw me.
Look, it could be worse. I could have brought a headless mouse back in with me. Instead I…
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