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What the Hospice Cat Knows
horror◐ Mature5 contributors · 4 paragraphs deep
I push the door open and step inside. Mr. Avery is sitting up, breathing fine, watching the TV with the sound off. "You okay?" I ask. He smiles. "Better than okay. But that cat's been sitting outside my room for an hour. He never does that for nothing, does he?" I don't know what to say.
I sit with Mr. Avery and hold his hand. I'll just stay until morning, I decide, so nothing happens. He talks about his late wife, his garden, his old dog. Near dawn he squeezes my hand and says, "Thank you for staying." Then his monitor goes flat. Marrow was right. But this time, at least, he didn't die alone.
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