On the greyist sky,
And of a day when snow does fall.
They call these the hours of magic.
A timeless time.
A time of empty voices.
It was during this time,
That a boy played out in the falling snow.
His laughter pierced the emptiness like a knife.
Then after some time
A small noise came to his ears.
It started with an echo,
The boy searched everywhere for it,
Until it found him.
The cat stopped dead in front of him.
There was a long moment as the boy looked at the cat.
And, the cat stared right back.
Then suddenly the cat said, "Hello. It's cold out here."
The boy jerks back. "Y-you can talk?"
"Yes, I can." The cat purrs.
"Can you give me a home."
Then the boy awed by the situation nods,
And, picks the cat up.
The cat perches on his shoulder,
And talks to him sweetly.
Days passed as their friendship grows.
Through the door of the house.
Passed room after room.
Passed all the lavish furniture.
Straight into the little boys room,
The little boy stands their petting the cat.
But their is something wrong with the cats mouth.
It does not speak.
It's eyes are glossy, and its body chipped,
And cracked with a slight shine in the light.
From unmoving lips the cat says, "Please don't hurt me."
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