Salome

Jena Woodhouse
(cat and rat)

 
Stationed at the window,
she waited for a glimpse of him,
brown and white and trim,
with lavish whiskers and a long,
sleek tail. Each time he scooted past
she hurled herself against the glass,
then waited till he punctually
ran back up again. And thus for days
and weeks, becoming more obsessed.
"She's probably in love with him,"
I told myself. Until the most grotesque
occurred. I found them both, his head
gnawed off, she gloating like Salome
over what was left.

Tonight she took her customary place
beside the sill, and trained her predatory
gaze upon the pane, like one bereft.