Dead.

Probably dead. She may have been an old bird, but not quite at the nappy stage yet.

But one should always make sure.

Avoiding the old woman’s crotch like the plague, Buttons stretched up to pat his paws over her wrinkly cheeks. Cold. Clammy, and even more than usual. He moved his nose in towards hers, not sensing any breathing before her head flopped to the side and knocked with a dull thud against the window.

Cold skin, lack of breath, incontinence, and uncontrollable rolling of the head in a moving vehicle.

Definitely dead.

Taking leave of her lap, he sat on the seat beside her like nothing was wrong, looking around in a casual cat manner. Fortunately, this bus wasn’t crowded, not many people eager to visit Squarespace, apparently, but that was all well and good. Had there been more people on board this unoccupied seat may not have been so empty, but less passengers also meant less likelihood of anyone noticing the old, dead lady slumping about in the second last row - and Buttons definitely didn’t want that. Who needs all that commotion and fussing over a person that doesn’t care anymore anyway? Besides, he really didn’t feel like being manhandled right now. A cat needs its space. Sure, suffering a little human touch for the sake of obtaining a delicious feed was normally worth it, but being coddled and squeezed and groped by way too many human hands, just because some old lady died, was another thing altogether.

Death… how monotonously annoying.

Nope, he’d sit right here, in this perfectly pee-and-poop-free seat until the bus arrives at its destination. Okay, he was feeling a little bit concerned. After all, the woman did soil her pants, and it might not take long for one of these passengers to notice this unrelenting stench of old people faecal matter.

Ignoring the insatiable urge to coil down and lick his ass, he remained in a seated position, expression flat as normal and turning his eyes out the window, just waiting for this journey to end. The sooner the better, of course, this smell was going to put him off the thought of food for at least another hour.

For the love of tuna soup, please hurry up and arrive already!

One eyelid raised a notch when the Welcome sign to Squarespace floated by the window. Looks like he was having a stoke of luck, this journey was certainly close to an end, and never a moment too soon. But you know, despite the stench and the dread of possibly having the old bird give her position away, he was feeling pretty good about all this. He’d been hanging around old Mariam for far too long, and it was always great to live free and easy on your own now and then. No one to feign affection for, no one to whine at for an extra little scratch above the tail, no more having to put up with the blaring volume of infomercials at odd hours of the morning in an apartment that smells like old eggs. Yep, he could roam around and live by his own wits for a while, time to stop and smell the roses on his continued and lengthy search for Bob.

Still, I really will miss her fried chicken wings. No one cooks chicken quite like she did.

---

Jaimie had no reason to stay in this one-horse town anymore. The only reason she’d come here in the first was to hook up with Vernon, but interest in that romance died fast. As usual. If it wasn’t for that annoying tattoo of his ex’s name stamped on his left butt cheek, the whole affair may have lasted a little longer. Since the break-up, if you even want to call it that, she’d rented a granny flat while working as a checkout chick in the local convenience store, saving up the money to move on. That mission had been accomplished now, and she was soooo looking forward to indulging in the always jumping and banging city life again.

With warm coffee cup braced in both hands, though still shivering in her comfort-sacrificing, black mini skirt, knee length leather boots and skimpy hot-pink jacket, Bob cut bleach-blond hair pulsating in the morning breeze, all she had to do was wait for the next bus out of town. Despite the cold and the unpractical clothes she was wearing, she was masochistic enough to have chose the table outside of the bus station canteen room. Sure, it would have been warmer to wait inside, but that would have also meant having to put up with humouring the conversation with Michael, the pimply faced teen serving at the counter. Just another stalker she had managed to obtain during her stay. He really wasn’t happy to see her leaving, and she really wasn’t in the mood to counselling a breaking heart.

So many lonely, sappy, clingy men out there. How even was it that women were the ones to get tagged as the more emotional gender?

She didn’t have to put up with the cold for too long, she could have just used the extra sweater she had tucked away in her carry-on bag, but fortunately she didn’t have to. The bus was right on time, the warm bus aircon awaited her. Really though, a bus perfectly on time in a town like this was no surprise. It was actually kind of eerie just how well things normally turned out here.

Figures

She did have a little more waiting to do, at least time enough to finish her coffee while the bus driver went off to freshen up before the next journey. But, as life had a way of throwing its surprises, her reasons for leaving town were throw into question when a black-and-white tuxedo cat was the first to step off the bus. When the doors clambered open, the cute little thing seemed to be in quite the hurry – pouncing from the platform right over the steps and onto the sidewalk where it paused, just long enough to regard Jaimie with a peculiar raise of one brow, and say; “Hey there, hot stuff! Try and keep those legs together, will ya? – and enjoy the smell!”

Yes.

It spoke.

She gasped. Mouth and eyes wide with shock. The coffee slipping from her grip, smashing on the stone pavers between her feet as she watched the black-and-white beauty dart off up the street towards the center of town.