There is a hole in my floor. Small and unnoticeable to guests it nags at my mind alone. It hides in the corner and crumbles ever so slowly. Enticing. At first I thought it was best to ignore it. You know, out of sight out of mind. But to my kitten, it was a new space to explore, fishing paws down curiously every other hour in hopes of digging a prize out of the mysterious dark abyss. Though it was dark and lifeless he still found interest in the ever growing hole so I thought it best to cover it with a bookshelf. That way temptation was gone and I wouldn't have to spend hours eying a problem that was out of my control.

It had seemed like a smart idea at the time. Harmless and fixable. But you see that was over a month ago now, and my issues have not been resolved. 

When Leaf began staring aimlessly at the bookshelf naturally I assumed it was because I had moved it. I had only had him a few months at that point so he was still becoming adjusted to my flat and so the new unfamiliarity of the whole situation had him slightly on edge. I have a hard enough time reading humans so you could say reading cats isn’t exactly my speciality either but from what I could tell, he was happy and healthy, and we got along well. I had left it at kitten’s curiosity and let him continue to stare off into space as much as his little heart desired. Perhaps that was my first mistake. 

The bank makes her weirder. Something’s always changed when she comes back.

(lying)

No.