Turning Tables ✔

Part 1

LISA

I was staring at the clock like I had been for the last six hours. Okay, not exactly staring, but checking every sixty seconds. I was dying to get out of here, as I had been my entire shift.

Finally, I was only five minutes away from quitting time. But even these last five minutes felt like they were dragging on heavily.

I packed my bags, grabbed my keys from the drawer, and waited patiently for the clock to read 5pm. Not that anyone would notice or care if I got up and left right now, but I felt like I was cheating work if I walked away even a minute early.

Though I wasn't. I hadn't been doing anything in the last three hours, anyway, except browsing the internet. That was kind of the problem with my job. I was in a salaried nine-to-five position, but I was able to finish all the work I had in half that time.

I probably shouldn't complain about having too little work. I mean, I could have been in a job position where work was very stressful. Instead, I just had to settle with complete boredom for several hours of the day. There were worse problems to have. When five o'clock hit, I was able to slide out of the office without talking to anyone. Most people were barely beginning to pack up at their desks, having jobs that required their full attention all day, unlike my own.

I didn't dislike anyone at my office or anything; it wasn't that I had a problem with saying bye to anyone at the end of the work day. But I always seemed to get caught up in small talk conversations that kept me chatting with them for a bit. Which, again, normally I wouldn't have minded, but right now, I just wanted out of the damn office. It was Friday, and I wanted nothing more than to get home.

I bounded down the stairs and into the employee parking lot. I speed walked to my car, ready to hop in, when I heard a squeaking noise coming from underneath my car.

I realized what it was right away. The mew of a tiny kitten. Cats weren't unusual around here at all, both strays and house cats. Our office building was surrounded by residential neighborhoods. It wasn't unusual that some pets would be found roaming around the streets.

But kittens were seen less often. I attributed this to the fact that you couldn't really let small kittens roam the streets safely. And when I knelt down under my car to see this one, I could see immediately that it was way too young to survive on its own out here. At least not comfortably.

It was a tiny little thing!

For a second, my jaw dropped. It looked so much like my own kitten that I thought maybe somehow she had stowed away in my car when I left for work and ended up here! But, no, this one was definitely younger than my own cat. And the markings were similar but a little different, though they both shared the same striking blue eyes.

They were both tortoiseshells, their coats mottled with orange, red, and black. This little thing had significantly more orange and red than my cat; she looked like she was bursting with the colors of autumn. I knew it must be a female kitten since tortoiseshells were exclusively female cats. Something like less than .05% of calico cats were male.

I was hesitant for a moment to reach and pick her up, unsure if she was feral and whether she'd run. But then, nestled in her soft coat of fur, I saw a very thin collar around her neck. Knowing she must belong to someone, I very slowly reached under the car for her.

To my relief, she didn't flinch as I put my hands on her. She must have been very well socialized. I held her tiny body in my hands; she was shivering slightly. It was hard to tell if she was cold from the chilly fall breeze or simply scared.