The only plate in the room was her plate. Michael did not have much use for one since he mostly ate his food from some form of container, really anything it came in. Oddly it never felt right to serve the cat food in the subpar way he accepted his.
The cat might not know the difference but he knew and that made him feel better knowing he served her food good and proper. While chuckling at the dated phrase "Good and proper," he gets up to lock the door.
He knows locking the door is something that could very well save him, and he did feel more secure. It did, however, make him just that bit more paranoid and afraid. As though just the act of locking it signalled danger.
>>Read part Ⅰ<<The night was happily uneventful. Getting out of his makeshift bed of cardboards on the floor of what used to be a closet. Michael stretches out and finally feels awake enough to fully open his eyes.
"That was nice, wasn't it?" He asks the cat still cuddling in bed. "Yes." He answers himself smiling at how lazy she is, then heads to fill her bowl with some kibble. He knew it was a good rest for them both since she did not come to attack him sooner to fill her bowl.
If it came down to it though, she was more than capable of feeding herself. They lived in an abandoned building by the foot of a hill and surrounded by a field. That is a whole lot of mice and critters for her.
Michael then heads over to the window and takes down the cardboard shutter he uses to block light from escaping at night. It was an overcast day. He thought so when he woke up. It is a nice break from the harsh heat they have had for the past 2 weeks.
The cat finally decided to get up and eat, and while she does that he changes his shirt to one that was a bit cleaner. That reminded him to try and get some soap to wash the few pieces of clothing he does have. Even before living on the street he was never really concerned with his clothes. So long as it was clean enough.
Michael checks the watch face he carries in his pocket. It is 6:00. No need to rush, not that if he ever did but even if for some reason he had to.
With a freshish shirt on, and having said bye to the cat. Michael heads for town. Although it always seems quit around he is sure to have his wits about him as he walks up the dust road to the main road that then heads straight into town.
In town, Michael quickly gets himself a packet of cheap biscuits and a small milk. He did not really need to and could work hungry without any issue, but he had a little bit extra left from the day before. "Why not spoil myself," he thought.
Standing outside the shop enjoying his breakfast, Michael looks around to see how much competition there was. In the week there tend to be almost fifteen people that hang around waiting.
The spot outside the shop is known by now as the place to go if you need a few workers. Most were real scoundrels but with supervision and a simple task, you can enjoy a beer and have freshly cut grass on the cheap. A few of them were really good at construction and other tasks, but time has not been kind to them and they have not been kind to themselves or those around them.
Today was a quiet day as it tends to be on Sundays. Michael liked coming on Sundays because he can avoid most of the trash. Smiling at himself he knows how ironic it may seem that he calls them trash, but for him, it purely meant they were worthless humans that cause more harm than good.
For a moment he tries to play devil's advocate for himself but soon gives up and drinks the last bit of his milk and throwing it in the trash. As he turns back to the road he sees a pickup come around the corner. It is dirty. This looks promising he thinks and quickly rushes to the sidewalk.
"We will be cleaning the backyard, there is nothing too big but there is a lot of junk. I will pay you $20 and provide food for lunch." The man says loudly without waiting for Michael to even greet him.
"Yes, can do," Michael says as he jumps on the back of the pickup as though he is not giving the man a chance to recant. Then taps the roof and smiles as he feels the pickup pull away.
Michael is not very tall, and he might seem a bit too skinny without a shirt on but seeing as he always wore a shirt he was happy with his weight. As much as he did not particularly care about looking dashing he also did not care much for how his dusty brown hair decided to look the day. Apart from sprinkling it with water and scruffing it a bit more in a general forward and down direction, hair was just hair to him.
Another reason he would not be seen without a shirt is that although his arms seemed tan the sun would ravage his speckled white skin.
Arriving at the job site and surveying the backyard filled to the brim with junk Michael was glad he did spoil himself. The day went past quite quickly even though they only finished well into dusk.
Michael did only had a bite or two of the lunch the mans wife graciously made. The rest he packaged in a plastic container he found to take home. There was enough for 2 more days.
Part of the junk they removed on many trips to the junkyard was a box of books. Notepads, normal reading books and magazines and such. Almost all of them in very good condition as they were protected from the outside by being inside a rusty metal cabinet.
Michael asked if he may have some of the notepads and the two fiction books he spotted between the others which he had no interest in. Some people do not like if you take things like that even though they are throwing it away. This he had learnt the hard way.
"Hey Girl!" Michael says cheerfully to the cat as he walks into the building. She must have come downstairs to see where he is. Michael tried to not get home after sunset and this was cutting it very close with the last of the sun being extinguished as he walked through the doorway.
Using his lighter he slowly makes his way up the stairs to their room. He felt a bit fancy with all his loot. He remembered the old days when they would buy groceries for the month. All those packets. It felt good.
Before he came home he made sure to buy a pen and he remembered the soap and most importantly. "I got you something nice again Girl, that is two days in a row now. I hope you are not getting to spoilt my kitty." He says softly to the cat as he locks the door to the room and puts up the cardboard blinds before turning on the gaslight.
Sitting on his cardboard bed and leaning into the closet frame, he watches as the cat purrs between bites of meaty goodness. He was not really sure why he wanted the notepads, since he can't draw and he is not a writer. He does enjoy reading but never read the same book twice, also that got a bit boring after some time.
He did read once that it helps to reflect on your day. Remembering that he decides that must be why he got took them.
Today I had a marvellous breakfast in stark contrast to the landscape I was overlooking.
"Do you think that is a bit grandiose my Girl?" He asks the cat as he re-reads what he has written. Thinking about what it means to reflect on your day he decides that if he were to write it exactly then it would just be boring.
There I was a brave wanderer, down on his luck. Waiting for fate to get over whatever petty grievance she had against me.
Finishing the last of my revitalization potion I spot a wagon approaching. What adventure, opportunity or twist of fate rides towards me on this day I think to myself. After a moment of weakness, I gather my strength to meet my fate...