Actually I wanted a story.

On a miserable kitten.

Me .. o .. o .. ng ..ng..

Did not you hear moaned?

Even the tuk skedar voice, his identity as a cat show very weak.

Whatever could he shouted like a tiger.

He just cornered.

On the wall near the yard next to the gutter.

Own.

It goes without wondering where the parent.

Needless to find where their relatives.

Because, as he came to me.

Next thing I know, he’s sitting in the corner of the house.

Shivering, pale, with eyes closed membranes.

***