Gemotions

The elderly cat at the shelter, missing an eye, meowed plaintively. “It’s too old,” Mia said. “It'll probably just get sick and die.” Her roommate, Chloe, turned away.

Chloe lingered, her gaze fixed on the cat. She felt a lump forming in her throat. She imagined the cat, alone and unwanted, spending its final days in the cold confines of the shelter.

She thought of her own grandparents, and the fear of being forgotten. She imagined the cat, warm and loved, and knew she could make a difference. “But… it needs someone,” she whispered, her voice cracking.