Not Like the Rest of Them

“You bitch!” He tries to kick me.

I’m young and agile and easily evade him.

He flings the spade down, stomps away.

I peer into the hole, at the dead thing at the bottom. I recognise this one. She used to wave at me when she whizzed by on her bike.

He returns, looking happier. He spades earth into the hole. I silently watch.

I’m not like the rest of them, the dead creatures in the holes. I’m his favourite girl, his Kat. I will get my saucer of cream tonight, curl up beside him on the bed and purr.