The Wordsmiths Book 2021

and caught her around the neck. Holly kicked her hind legs forward and caught at the mesh with her feet, clawing at it to release her. Finally, her foot found grip on the mesh and she tore at it, ripping a flap away from the small hole her head was through. It was enough. She edged herself through the hole and between the bars, then leapt from the window onto the branch of a thick tree in the front garden. Her claws were weak, but she held as tight as she could, scrambling down the trunk in a flurry. Once she was on the ground she flattened herself, suddenly aware of her exposure. Where was he? Her head spun as she struggled to find her bearings. The fence was to her left as she faced back towards the bathroom window. She paused at the bottom on the fence, mustering her strength and jumped for the cross rail. Her front legs caught it, but she had to kick and scramble with her hind legs to find her balance. It seemed much higher and more narrow than she’d assumed when peering from the window sill. She scurried across as quickly as she could. As she passed alongside her apartment, she slowed as she looked in at the warm glow of light coming from her windowsill. She could just see the man through the gap in the heavy curtains. He looked peaceful. The TV winked its flashing colours at him and highlighted the crumbs on the carpet at his feet. She looked at her windowsill as though looking at her own life, but it was past now. A breeze caught her white fur, blowing it as it glowed in the shadows. She looked down the line of the fence ahead of her and called out. In the distance she could hear the black cat answer her. She dropped her body low and scurried along the fence towards him.

Mr. Patrick George

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