Cursed Cold

Cain follows me into the kitchen. I take Cain's old bowl out from the fridge where I left it and gesture at him. "I suppose that would be nice to eat," he says.

I unwrap it and put it on the floor for him, and then take out some more of the lasagna. I don't bother putting it into a bowl and eat it out of the tray. It's sticky and the flavor is bland. It will probably fully spoil if I leave it for another day. After I finish the remains, I open the kitchen window and retrieve some china cups on the windowsill. They're full of the rainwater from last night. I drink them and quench my thirst.

"Very resourceful, I see," Cain says.

He's eaten his lasagna and licks his lips with a pink tongue. I don't know whether he meant that as a compliment, or he was only amused with me. "The water isn't running?" he asks.

I nod and gesture with my hands to encompass the whole place. "Everything isn't running," Cain translates. "You haven't been able to go out and pay your bills. Or work to even get money to pay your bills. I did hear this house has already been paid for, though. At least you won't get kicked out."

I smile ruefully. I go to the living room and pick up a pad of paper gathering dust on one of the bookshelves. Next to it is a black pen, and I scribble some words onto the pad. Cain follows me and I put it down for him to read.

Do you really like being petted?

Cain laughs; it's an odd sound coming from a cat. "So you choose to ask me that? Nothing about myself? Nothing about the curse that I have, or what can cure your curse? Nothing at all?"

I watch him expectantly and tap the paper. He washes his ears. "Well," he says slowly. "I do. It feels nice. And being a cat allows me to get a massage almost every day."

I rub his back and he springs up. "Ooh," he purrs. "You can rub me harder. Cats feel things on a different level than humans."

I dig my fingers along his spine and Cain melts like putty in my hands. He purrs like a train and closes his eyes. "That's the spot..." he meowed.

I stop petting him, and he eyes me. "No more?"

I get the paper again. What's your curse about?

"Now we're getting somewhere," he says. He rolls on his belly and tucks his feet under him. "My curse was obtained eight days ago. On the tenth day as stated by the curse, my human consciousness will disappear and I will become nothing more than a stray cat. Only the kiss of a cursed human can change me back into one. I have two more days."

I tilt my chin up. You might want to find another cursed human, I write.

He narrows his eyes. "I'm your only hope. Do you think I won't fulfill my part of our bargain? I know how to lift your curse."

I don't believe you, I scrawl on the paper, slam it onto the floor, and stalk away.