Meow...

I am a cat. Not Garfield, the fat cat really. I am that cat. You think I am not looking and you think I am dumb as a pig then you are absolutely dead wrong. I stalk and I watch you. You tall and ridiculously conceited humans.

I see lover's quarrels and I see old couples strolling. I used to see old man- walking with a limp, and barely moving nor bending his legs. He would walk behind his wife, this old rather stern looking but still strong wife of his. They keep mum from each other, not talking much really.

One day, the old man took out his hankerchief wanting to clean his face but he dropped it accidentally. Cloth being a cloth, it made no sound. The wife, ten metres ahead, stopped without asking and almost instantaneously, turned around and picked up the torn cloth and passed it to the old man. dead silence.

And she walked ahead after passing him the tattered cloth, the wife speed up. And not asingle word was spoken.

One day, I saw the old lady walking alone, no limping husband in tow and a yellowed hankerchief clutched between her arm and body walking towards the shopping mall.

Two days later, the old couple disappeared completely.

But sometimes, I see their shadows in the night though, one walking ahead of the other, the old man limping.

Meow...