Night walk.

The cat walked along the sidewalk. It was fast, but not obviously so. Once in awhile its eyes caught a streetlight and flashed with emerald luminescence. It was not hurrying, but it was fast.

It traversed the large ficus roots that tore through the sidewalk in front of the abandoned school without bother. The leaves above whispered in the warm breeze. Once in awhile the cat stopped to peer through the link fence, into the awkward grass. Whatever caught its attention did not keep it long, and once again the cat walked.

The man was not hurrying, nor was he fast. He staggered along the sidewalk. He thought the street empty.

The cat saw him before he saw the cat. It stopped, its back to the fence. The moon emerged and cast its pale light on them both. The man paused, knowing he was watched. He looked down and saw the green lanterns appraising him, curious.

He smiled. The street was not empty. He crouched, with difficulty, and held his empty hand towards the looking lanterns.

The cat sniffed and then walked towards the hand. It dragged its whiskers and face against the outstretched fingers. From the earth came a purr.

The man smiled and spoke, slurring the evening and his life to the small feline that rubbed its face against his hand. He wept, tears ran down his cheeks but still he spoke and smiled and still the cat purred. Once in awhile the cat would stop and look at him. He would stop as well, his smile fade. A small meow and once again the routine would begin, the story of his life continue, the weight of the past pressing against him.

From the awkward grass came a noise. They stopped. The cat looked away towards the grass. The man held his breath. He stood, unsteady, and watched.

The cat walked along the sidewalk. It did not hurry, but it was fast.