Elias opened his apartment door to the cool evening air. On the welcome mat sat a small, scruffy kitten. It looked up at him with enormous eyes. "Hello there," he said softly.
He crouched and held out a finger. The kitten sniffed it, sneezed — a tiny pink-tipped nose wrinkling — then rubbed its head against his hand. The hallway smelled of damp wool and old carpet.
Elias brought a saucer of milk, but the kitten batted it over with one paw. Milk splashed across the floor. He sighed, then remembered the pantry. A can of tuna waited on the top shelf.
The sharp smell of tuna filled the room. The kitten scrambled forward and ate quickly, tail twitching. When it finished, it stretched and began to explore.
The kitten batted at a green hanging plant, then scurried up the curtains. Elias chased after it, but the kitten leaped onto his lap and started to purr.
The rumble of the purr vibrated through his sweater. Outside, a bus rumbled past, but inside, everything felt still and soft. Elias rested his chin on his hand and smiled.
A knock came at the door. A neighbor stood there, looking worried. "Have you seen a lost kitten?" Elias looked down. The kitten's tail twitched against his leg. He reached for it — it jumped back into his arms.
The neighbor smiled. "Well, it's clearly attached to you." Elias nodded and closed the door. He picked up the kitten and set it on the windowsill. Evening light turned gold. He reached for his tea — now warm again.