All of my pets died.

This fall means death and sliding thin wheels over wet leaves. Sometimes I don't like to speak louder than a whisper, so you will have to lean in close and feel my words, puffs of warm air on your cheek, tiny paws across the counter top.

I drew the same stupid picture I drew when I was in first grade and I loved cats and I had a best friend and she loved cats too.

We communicate with squeaks or moans or throaty purring engine noises. Sometimes I run out of things to say.