Kaelyn wiped the tables at Denuccis diner. She stacked plates higher and higher until the wobbly tower leaned to one side.
A plate slipped. It clattered to the floor and she froze, arms still up in the air.
She bent down, picked up the pieces gently, and started stacking again.
Then the lunch rush began. Kaelyn carried three greasy trays at once, her blond hair flying behind her.
She tripped over nothing. The trays shook — but every dish stayed perfectly still. 'Whoa,' she whispered.
After work, Kaelyn walked home under the warm streetlights. Her keys jingled in her pocket. The night air felt cool against her face.
She reached her front door, inserted her key, and pushed it open.
Two blurry shapes launched themselves at her ankles. One was Ken, her tabby. The other was Snowball, her tuxedo.
Ken kneaded her shoelaces. Snowball wove figure-eights around her legs, purring like a tiny engine.
Kaelyn dropped to the carpet. Both cats climbed into her lap, warm and heavy.
She buried her face in Ken's soft fur. Snowball head-butted her chin. She giggled out loud.
The best part of the day was over. Kaelyn was home.