The Weekday One Hundred

They appeared before me at the same time, a cross no man should bear.

“I’m here to adopt Sprinkles,” proclaimed the thousand-dollar scarf lady.

 The bespoke blazered gentleman cleared his throat. “I, too, am here for Sprinkles and I believe I was first.”

While watching two dilettantes fight to the death appealed, I did have to maintain order.

I raised my hand, eager to announce that the cat had been adopted but was denied the pleasure. They were already headed towards the exit, arm-in-arm, their spark undeniable.

My little corner of the animal shelter – home to strays of all species.