by Timothy Braun
When I came home to Cindy I was drunk and she had bought a cat, a cat she hadn’t gotten food for. Cindy was angry and didn’t talk to me. The cat ate the leaves off my mahogany fern, and hissed when I picked a fight with Cindy, just before I passed out. The next day Cindy was gone, along with my wallet and all her dresses. I tried to share my breakfast with the cat - double whiskey, coke, no ice - but the cat wouldn’t have any and jumped out the living room window. I never learned the name of the cat.
Timothy Braun is a writer living in Austin, Texas. He teaches in the Department of English at St. Edward's University. You can learn more about him here.