I'm a cat, and my owner is the girl who lives on the third floor of the house next door. But she won't admit I'm hers, because I'm just a stray.
A passing car flattened my body. Blood stained its sides, car after car, too many to count. Every one of them picked up a little of that blood-red stain, so glaringly bright. Only when the light turned red and traffic stopped could my body finally catch its breath. I slowly walked over to my corpse, slipped back inside, and moved an arm whose bones and scraps of flesh had been crushed beyond recognition.
With difficulty, I made it out of the traffic.
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