Cold makes you feel broken

I started my noble mission of becoming the protector of stray on a Saturday evening, . My head was cracking like two elephants decided to learn tap dancing in my damn head. My shitty hangover made me sleep until noon thus I didn’t feel like leaving my blanket which became my safe cocoon. All the shit I snorted a night before accompanied by booze made the perfect combination for the preparation for the coming days of depression. Cracked open my cocoon at 16.25 pm. Light behind the curtains told me whatever needed to be known about the weather; grey & cold. Took a piss, shot out all the dirt from my body. Cracked lips and a dry tongue told me to get some stuff to eat, so I listened their advice.

As I opened the door of the apartment mundane colours of winter accompanied my self-pity. Until the store, I tried to be optimistic each second and next one vaporized every positive thought I had. I don’t feel the need to tell you all the disgust I felt about my existence as I am sure if you are reading this probably you are more disgusted about your-self than I have ever did.

I touched the handle of the store’s door. Voice of a guardian angel murmured next to my feet, thoughts disappeared. I tried to avert my sight for a second, then unavoidable thing happened; I looked down. Couple of kittens with their mother (Just like the stray kids with their parents at the corner). Who can fucking resist couple of kittens with their teary eyes? I bought a bit of bread and cheese, put the food in front of the folk. They approached to it with tiny steps, smelled then turned their heads. A passing Cat told me that they won’t eat bread, get them some milk (as I petted the cat, everyone became a fucking critique. Appreciate the fucking favour).

I didn’t give up and went back to store bought the milk and a bowl. Folk turned their head again. Tuna! Minced meat! Candy! Cat Food! A bloody Steak! Folk turned in to the girl from Exorcist, heads turning in 360 degrees. My patience running out and  my despair started to turn back to me with a wild rage.

As I sat next to the folk, head between arms, trying to understand what my mistake was, another cat was passing by. She put some of those diet biscuits, and folk jumped from their place towards it. Maybe that’s it, went back inside got some diet biscuits laid it in front of the hall feast. Heads turned left again. Tried to show that I am not hostile, hands on air, scratches on my tender skin. Turned in to Cruella Deville, grabbed the bastards one by one, threw them in to a sack brought them back home. Skinned their fur from their little skeletons. All my heart break went away and weather was no more cold. Damn Bastards! Had fleas….