Ficlets

A good meal

He walked among the strangers on the street, never looking into their eyes. He was part of the crowd but he knew he was not part of their world. He was an outcast. Gritting his teeth to keep himself from screaming at the people that walked with him in the rain.

The rain ran down his back now and he hunched his shoulders to try and insulate him from the black weather.

Slowly the cold rain cooled his anger and he turned off the main street and stopped in front of a shop window. A dirty white cat rubbed up against his legs. He tried to shoo the cat away but it avoided his feeble kick and leaned against his legs again.

He stared at the fresh food displayed inside and tried to remember his last good meal. He thought briefly about the woman in the alley – she had had a few dollars in her purse – he could buy himself something to eat. His stomach rumbled so loudly it caused the cat to stop purring and look up at him.

He reached down and picked up the cat and looked for an ally. At least he wouldn’t go hungry.

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