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. 

(lying)

Right. I knew that.

(tired)

Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying it.