Finders Keepers

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 01, 2017

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Submitted: July 01, 2017

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Finders Keepers.

 

Rubbish day! All the bins are out on the street, the overflowing bags piled up haphazardly next to them. Without fail there would be those that had split to leak their contents over the ground. Bits of trash would be picked up and moved by the breeze; the stench of it would permeate the air too.

 

It doesn’t make for pleasant viewing so on these mornings I tend to walk further out in the street; as far as I can, at least. Parked cars always force me back onto the side-walk though so I try not to breathe too deeply.

 

I don’t know what it was that caught my attention, if it was a noise or a movement. I carried on walking, stopped, looked back over my shoulder. There was some kind of sack, tied firmly shut at it’s top, but there was no doubt that something inside it was moving.

 

My head was telling me to keep moving, that it was nothing to do with me. I could hear the dustcart in the distance so it would soon be gone. I still turned back, walked towards that moving sack. I tried to keep my eyes fixed on that and to ignore the other trash around it. There was broken glass, used hypodermic needles......what was I doing?

 

The closer I got, the more the sack seemed to be wriggling around. And there was definitely something making a noise. It was too faint to make out but I was pretty sure that someone had tied some kind of animal up inside that sack, left it just like trash to be collected, crushed and tossed.

 

No, my conscience would not let me leave it there. The dustcart was getting ever closer so there was no time for me to really think about just what I was about to do. I picked up the sack and carried it carefully. I could feel all kinds of fluid coming off it and soaking into my clothes, seeping it’s way to my skin. My outfit would be ruined but it was too late to think of that now.

 

I couldn’t take it home, at least until I knew what it was that was moving around inside. So where could I go where there would not be too many people jostling me around. It was still early so maybe the park wouldn’t be too busy. It was worth a try at least. And there were bins there too, should I just be over-reacting and literally hauling around someone’s litter.

 

And I was in luck. Apart from a couple of tired looking mothers with weeping toddlers the place seemed to be empty. I made my way to a bench well away from anyone else and carefully put the sack down. I’d just have a peek, nothing more. What harm could there be in doing that.

 

The string around the neck of the sack was tied tightly, knotted. It was not going to be easy to undo. It looked filthy too, felt.....oily. But that worked to my advantage; once I’d managed to loosen it the two cords more or less slipped apart. Whatever was inside was now frantic, struggling, throwing itself around. At least I knew that it was not just a bag of rotten food or worse.

 

Partly to stop myself smelling whatever stench came out of the bag, and partly from anticipation, I held my breath. I opened it, just a tiny amount, and there was a pair of eyes staring up at me. I was right about the smell though, it was disgusting.

 

I tied the sack up again quickly, muttering an apology as I did so. The sack was coming home with me, together with it’s inhabitant. We’d just need to stop off at the pet shop on the way back. There’d be quite a bit to buy; hopefully my card would cover it.

 

Back indoors I shut myself in the kitchen along with the sack which had restarted its struggling with a vengeance. I untied the sack and stepped back.

For a couple of minutes nothing happened; then the wriggling movement went nearer towards the opening until a grey furry shape shot out and hid under a chair.

 

I took one of the packets of food and tipped it in to a small dish. I put it on the floor by the chair and waited. It must have been starving for the kitten did not take long to come out of its hiding place to approach the dish. I kept still for a while, it was eating, watching my every move at the same time. But it was purring now so maybe.........

 

I leant forward to pick it up. For a moment it struggled, tried to pull away. I should have worried about getting scratches, especially considering how dirty it was, but instead I set about stroking it, cleaning it up.

 

She was gorgeous! A little smokey grey kitten, so soft to the touch she felt almost like cotton wool. How could someone have put her out with the trash? I named her Lucky. She was lucky for me having noticed her moving in that sack, and I was lucky for finding such a delightful companion!


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