Housesitter
When I talk about this housesitting gig, which I don’t often, people smile and stare at their shoelaces. They wrap things up, label me “once spunky, now sad”. His cats are throwing up everywhere. It is raining. The problem is that I am standing in his kitchen; in an apartment on a sinister street on a landfill-ridden plot covered in drab apartment complexes. The town is called Baggageport. Not worse than Intercourse, Pennsylvania or Hell, Michigan. Sighing and smoking and huddling there next to the cats… peeking out at the neat world.
About the Author: Meg Pokrass is the author of 8 collections of flash fiction.
Image Credit: Harris & Ewing “Cats” (1923) Public domain photo courtesy of the Library of Congress
As It Ought To Be 