There was a cat.
From beneath the faded old oak bench, peeked out a pair of luminescent golden eyes. These striking eyes belonged to a tiny feline body, black as soot and shivering in a damp, cardboard box. Those inquisitive eyes followed a young woman who strolled upon the salt-coated footpath leading past the bench.
As I left the tube station, once more too late to catch an uber, I saw that the path through the park was recently salted, melting it of snow. “Hmm, well I should be able to get home in time if I cut through the park.” And so I strolled, shivering through the frost-touched winter air.
About halfway down the path, as I could feel my feet beginning to numb up from the cold, I spotted a bench nearby - with only a thin coating of snow atop it - where I could take a break. Beneath the verdant pines hunched by frost-laden branches and niveous mantles, I sat. After a mere few minutes, I could feel my feet warming up again after having massaged them back to life. As I looked down, placing my feet back into their frozen prison (known as heels), a glint of gold glared up at me whilst shivering beside my feet. After it realised I had seen it, the kitten slunk out from beneath the bench and jumped into my arms - in hindsight he was probably just trying to find warmth - all the while still cutely glaring at me with it warming golden eyes. “Aww, so adorable. Who’s your owner?” I queried the kitten, feeling his neck for a collar, until I spotted a mostly disintegrated note peaking out from a damp cardboard box beneath the bench; upon which the only legible sentence read ‘KITTEN: UP FOR ADOPTION’.
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(I think it was a combination of pity for the young kitten and his unrepentant adorableness, which caused my following actions, please do not hold them against me…)
The kitten ceased shivering after only a short while and seemed to fall into a deep slumber. However, now that the kitten was still, I realised that I could feel his ribcage through his fur and my pity for the young kitten only increased. Therefore with the kitten still napping in my arms, I stood up and continued the short trek homewards - to my apartment.
By the time I’d arrived home, it was already the midnight hour, so I unlocked the door and stepped into the only place in this world which was just mine. I dropped my work satchel containing the empty tupperware from lunch, and wrapped the kitten inside a cosy blue and rouge checkered blanket, before pulling out a bowl and plate from the cupboard. Opening my fridge I pulled out a carton of milk, which I emptied into the bowl and some canned tuna which I opened then placed upon the plate - setting both next to the little bundle of feline adorability beneath my coffee table, whispering to him “I will call you Nekoichi.”. Following this series of unexpected events: I set my alarm for 5am in the morning, fell into my bed (with my work clothes still on), and passed out into the realm of dreams.
The kitten soon awoke from its near-comatose state, swaddled as he was in a cosy prison, to the scent of food, to his first meal in days. Koichi lapped at the milk for a time, before it ran dry. Then he began on the tuna, scarfing it down in a matter of seconds. A sense of contentment overcame the young kitten, as its new owner also began to awaken.
