Untitled 06.12.22
She opened the door and the room was quiet. “Err?”
No answer. Oscar was probably sleeping in the back room. Wouldn’t hurt to put some food out, considering both bowls were empty.
“Wie gehts?” The tap tap tap on the floor eventually summoned him. She heard him plop down the hall.
“Bist du in ordnung?”
He didn’t respond, merely crouched down to the bowl and scoffed the food until there was nothing left.
She grunted and set up her work station for the night — computer, keyboard, notepad, pens. “Das ist horbar.”
He still didn’t look up from the bowl. He was busy licking the remnants.
“Fein.”
~~~
Time was always slow in the heat and so she took a cold shower. Some music was on but still, she heard the bathroom door creak open. “Oscar?”
He pushed the curtain aside a few inches with his paw and shower water started to rain down on the floor. “Ah! Was ist es?”
Oscar blinked once, circled himself on the mat and promptly curled up into a sleepy ball.
She pulled the curtain back. “Of course.”
“Brrraow,” he purred.
She rolled her eyes and asked again, “Was ist es?”
Oscar closed his eyes and covered his face with his tail.
“So I guess we’re playing this game again tonight.”
~~~
Work turned out to be fairly easy and she was finished by the time the storm hit. Oscar was stood behind her at the back door, watching the lightning.
“Ein stürm, ya?”
No response, no movement. Sometimes it was as if the damn cat was made of stone.
“Vergiss es.”
Oscar looked up at her with what might have been disdain. He prowled back to the spare bedroom that really wasn’t a bedroom at all.
Dinner was on her mind but eating alone always felt like a punch; a sting; a deafening silence.
“Oscar!” she called from the kitchen.
He came trotting down the hall. “Brrrrraow?”
“If I make eggs and tuna, you want some?”
Oscar stared at her.
“Oscar, hörst du zu?”
He rolled onto his side and finally spoke. “Puta, yo hablo español.”
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