Injured
“Why is my pinkie wet?” I thought to myself as I absent-mindedly rubbed my thumb over the nail of the smallest finger on my left hand. I glanced down and saw bright red blood had oozing from a gash near my nail-bed that had to have occurred moments before when I was trying to pry open the cardboard box containing toner for the printer.
Rumble
The rumble of his feline motor can be heard from far away. It grows louder as he comes closer and then seems to sputter for a moment as he searches me with his marble-like eyes. With a gentle pat on the head and a quick scratch behind the ears he fades into a soft, content purr, curls up next to me, and quickly falls asleep.