The piercing cry, thin and laced with terror, sliced through the otherwise mundane sounds of the bustling marketplace. It wasn't the usual yowl of a...
The world for Patches was the cold, unforgiving concrete beneath the grand staircase of the apartment building. Each echoing footstep above was a tremor in...
Thirty years. In the grand tapestry of feline existence, that’s a respectable age. I’ve seen countless sunrises paint the dust motes dancing in the air,...
