A grandma cat-sitting for a trial lawyer.

[Title sourced from I Need a Prompt.]

She wondered how it had come to this, taking care of this…this thing, as if she had more than her one life left. It seemed strange that he would ask her to endure this trial. Did he assume she had nothing better to do? That just because she sat around the house all day, grimly staring out the window and enjoying treats now and then…did he doubt that she wanted more? That she could want more? It wasn’t her fault that she had to retire to this space. I mean, feral? Really? Sure, they didn’t call her that exactly, but the way they looked at her…she could imagine what they thought.

She was sick of their sideways glances and open laughter. Such mirth they shared at her expense. Watching her fumble around with her ball of yarn. Is it really that amusing? She never saw them do anything better with it…

But it wouldn’t do to argue with him about it. About any of it. That was his job, after all. She would never win the fight.

And so she sat on her perch, ruefully licking her paw as his grandmother slept on the sofa.

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