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Warning: The following describes a disturbing event which happened outside my house earlier this week. Please consider this and its possible effect on your state of mind before continuing.
I was the angriest I have been in years earlier today. Our dogs ganged up on one of the kittens. Dante wound up running off with it in his mouth.
By the time I got to the kitten, it looked like a limp dishrag. It's eyes were bulging and its breath was coming in short gasps. I tried to push the rake under it to lift it up, but it wasn't happening. When I picked it up, there was no blood, which surprised me. But there was no spirit either.
When my husband got back from his errands, I went to the nearest town of sufficient size, just to get away for a while. I wound up getting my hair cut (which I tend to do on the spur of the moment), and get a journal. I wasn't intending to write about what had happened earlier, but that's what came out of the pen. And it helped repair my shattered insides a little.
By the time I got to the kitten, it looked like a limp dishrag. It's eyes were bulging and its breath was coming in short gasps. I tried to push the rake under it to lift it up, but it wasn't happening. When I picked it up, there was no blood, which surprised me. But there was no spirit either.
When my husband got back from his errands, I went to the nearest town of sufficient size, just to get away for a while. I wound up getting my hair cut (which I tend to do on the spur of the moment), and get a journal. I wasn't intending to write about what had happened earlier, but that's what came out of the pen. And it helped repair my shattered insides a little.