Our daughter was lonely. She had no experience of living on her own. And that was heart wrenching for me.
Laura’s sister brought her a kitten. Keith Smudge was the name Laura gave to him. The kitten was cute. Laura thought he would be fun, someone to come home to, someone to need her. We were all excited and introduced ourselves to this little cat. The pet shop beckoned. I bought what was needed for a kitten’s habitat.
One whole night Laura kept him. The kitten shot under her bed then hissed and arched his back. Laura could not handle the responsibility or the patience needed to nurture a pet. She wanted It to go back. We stood and waved him goodbye. Keith Smudge went back to where he came from with his habitat intact.
Laura’s wine rack was empty, it did not look the part. Foolishly I bought six bottles of wine, three red, three white. I thought it to be inviting to offer a visitor a drink. I stood in Laura’s kitchen a couple of days later, the wine rack devoid of all bottles, I casually asked, ‘Have you had company?’
‘No reason.’ I looked away from the redundant wine rack, the chrome wire holding fresh air. I looked away with a frown on my brow.
An uneasy feeling flooded my heart.
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Thanks for finally writing about >Keith Smudge and wine
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