Emily Anne Epstein

Four Legs, Four Stories

I wasn’t sure if I should feel guilty about the cat or not. Sure, I had wished it dead several times, what with its long claws, filthy paws and dreadful smell, but I knew I was too cowardly to kill it. Out the window. “It jumped,” I told her; she didn’t believe me. Our suicidal kitten let me relish in her pain without remorse. Maybe that was worse.