Chapter Two
“Mr. Commings, how are you again?” The chair spun around, again with a clutch of papers and a distracted look. The grey tom was already sidling up to the vinyl couch, preparing to leap. Three flies were buzzing through the room, sensing sustenance but not yet a direction. The tom leapt, quickly rasping a fresh sore on the clients left elbow.
“Cummins.”
“Mr. Dubbins, I thought we went over this.” as he leaned forward in his chair, a look of heartfelt earnestness on his face. “It is time to move on! Fresh horizons! Resolution! Let us not travel the same path as we travelled last!”
A sigh of resignation. “I see.”
“I believe that would be rather difficult at this point.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your eye.”
“What?”
“Your left eye. It has started to come out. Be vigilant the cat doesn't become too attracted. The eye is very nutritious. Many scavengers take the eyes first. Wouldn't want that, would we?”
The client glanced, seeing the tom staring at his face. He reached and pushed the eye back into place, momentarily holding it to be sure it was secure.
“Did you contemplate while you were away?” Folding his hands, leaning back in his chair.
“Yes.” The tom slowly, cautiously slipped into his lap, then gently lapped his face. Fluid had dried, forming a crust under his eyes. It seemed to momentarily satisfy the matted tom and the two flies that had discovered the source of their meal.
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