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Weekly Contest #340
I learned the sound of your footsteps before I learned your names.Every house has a language. Yours spoke in quiet mornings, kettle-song, soft doors, and the careful way you stepped around the patch of sunlight on the floor so you wouldn’t disturb me. I was small then. I carried the world in my whiskers. I carried you in the way I waited.You called me Leo.A brave name for a cat who had learned that brave mostly meant staying still when your heart wanted to run.When I first arrived, I chose the corner behind the sofa. It was not a sad place. ...
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