Here's something I've been working on:
"At 10, Erik was a big kid. More than five feet tall and six stone, the boy was a terror on the playground. He shambled around at recess, often called "Godzilla" by smaller kids who would run near and then sprint away. Sometimes he caught one of them and, uncertain what to do, would shake them a little. Usually he just ended up in tears, crying softly in the bathroom until someone came in, forcing him to chase them away with a yell. His size was no benefit in the sports activities: while he could sometimes kick the ball past the outfield, he couldn't run the bases in kickball, and he just didn't have the dexterity to catch the ball in dodgeball. He was thus often one of the last two kids picked for a team, him and Elmer, who had apparently stopped growing in the second grade and had a bone spur his parents couldn't afford to fix sticking out of his chest.
Sometimes Erik's parents would take him out for ice cream after school. He loved that time; the sundaes were great, but it was also one of the few times his parents spent time with him. They were very busy with work most of the time, and the ice cream days were the only times he saw both of them together. The rest of the days were spent at home, watching cartoons, playing video games, breaking his various toys and playing with his kitten. The kitten was his delight. This month kitty was orange and liked to get into a lot of mischief.
After she showed an interest in climbing, Erik would help her up onto various high perches around the house. The mantle was particularly fun, because kitty succeeded in knocking down almost everything up there. A lot of stuff broke, but Erik knew that he wouldn't get in trouble. It was kitty who did it, after all, and she'd be gone soon enough. Erik liked to feed kitty from the table during dinnertime with his dad, and he'd giggle as she licked his fingers. Kitty would sleep on his pillow every night and wrestle with him in the morning as he got ready for school. Kitty would cuddle his feet as he ate breakfast with his mom before leaving for school. Erik loved his kitty.
Erik played with kitty every day for close to five weeks, but by the sixth week he started playing his new video games more again, on the sixth week he decided he wanted to finish the latest Resident Evil game, and by the seventh Monday since his parents brought kitty home for their boy, Erik chased the maturing cat out of the house before locking the door and leaving for school. By the end of the week, he'd have a new kitten. He loved kittens. Kittens were cute. He didn't have much use for cats.
****
Alfonse shifted his backpack straps as he walked home. A new girl, Coral, had transferred to his class, and all he could think of was her face, framed by curly hair, and the self-assurance she exhibited even though she was new to the school. He was fascinated. He found a stick on the ground and started fighting off bad guys, whipping off the ripe milkweed pods in old Mister Miller's overgrown front yard, all to rescue the fair damsel Coral. Just as he was about to snatch her from the jaws of the dragon, the evil Doctor Blankership shot him in the back with an arrow. Alfonse wheeled around, gasping, and threw his trusty blade to pierce the blackguard's heart before falling to his knees, overcome by the poison on his nemesis' clothyard. He trembled, quaked, tried to foam at the mouth but gave up after a moment, and expired. Would Coral care? Would she cry? Would she raise a memorial to her fallen hero? Something bumped his leg, and Alfonse opened his eyes. A cat had come up and rubbed against him while he lay there. It wasn't unusual to see a cat around here, of course - there were dozens of the feral animals all over the neighborhood, a fact which drove Mr. Bilagang up the wall - but he'd never seen one come up to him like this. Alfonse got to his feet, looking at the cat curiously as he collected his books and reloaded his backpack. The cat was orange, not quite fully grown, with no collar, and continued to try to rub at his legs. He looked around, at a loss for who around here would have had a cat to lose. Mr. Miller kept dogs who barked all day and ran through the streets at night, crapping all over everything. Mr. Bilagong hated all animals and has succeeded at running over at least a couple of the feral cats that Alfonse had seen. Mrs. Jenkins didn't come out of her house most days, and Alfonse doubted she had the energy to look after such a young animal. Doug was blind and had a great Lab, Jerry, who helped him get around town, but Alfonse had never seen him with a cat. The Uternas had a house full of teenagers all the time, with lots of parties and stuff like that; they couldn't take care of a pet either. Alfonse shrugged; he didn't know whose cat this was, but it sure was nice. He hoped whoever'd lost it would find it again. He crouched down, held out his hand, and gave it a rub on the back when it didn't run away. "Bye, kitty! Hope you find your way home!"
Alfonse had walked a full block, hurrying a little because he was late, before he realized his shoelace had come undone. He'd noticed that Coral's mom came to pick her up from school today, and hoped that she didn't choose that moment to drive past...a car approached and Alfonse stood up and peered at the car while trying to look like he had a reason to be standing in the middle of the block like that. It wasn't Coral. Wasn't her mom's car blue, too? He bent down again and the cat was there, looking at him. "Go home, kitty! Shoo!" Alfonse waved his hand at the cat, who merely blinked. He shook his head and started walking again. After a few steps, he looked back. The cat stopped and licked its paw. "Get out of here!" Alfonse yelled, and ran at the cat so that it had to flee or be trampled. It scampered across the street. Alfonse watched it for a moment, and then, satisfied that it wasn't going to turn around and start following him again, he continued on home. He thought of Coral and felt his face getting hot. He started to run, his body pounding from side to side with the awkward weight of his backpack shifting on his back. He turned left onto Archer Lane and drew up short. The cat was sitting there, next to the juniper bush on the corner. "Wha..?" he began, and the cat walked to him and started rubbing against his shins.
He looked around, making sure that nobody would see him, and then leaned down and scratched behind the cat's ears. "I guess you were feeling lonely, huh?" The cat nuzzled his hand. "You're a good cat. What are you doing away from home?" When he started to remove his hand, the cat pushed up onto its hind legs to push Alfonse's hend with its head. He laughed; he'd never seen a cat do that before. Aunt Clara's cat, Harry, was playful at times, but never this affectionate. After a few minutes more, Alfonse realized how late it was and hurried down the street to his house. "Goodbye, cat! Maybe I'll see you tomorrow!" "
"At 10, Erik was a big kid. More than five feet tall and six stone, the boy was a terror on the playground. He shambled around at recess, often called "Godzilla" by smaller kids who would run near and then sprint away. Sometimes he caught one of them and, uncertain what to do, would shake them a little. Usually he just ended up in tears, crying softly in the bathroom until someone came in, forcing him to chase them away with a yell. His size was no benefit in the sports activities: while he could sometimes kick the ball past the outfield, he couldn't run the bases in kickball, and he just didn't have the dexterity to catch the ball in dodgeball. He was thus often one of the last two kids picked for a team, him and Elmer, who had apparently stopped growing in the second grade and had a bone spur his parents couldn't afford to fix sticking out of his chest.
Sometimes Erik's parents would take him out for ice cream after school. He loved that time; the sundaes were great, but it was also one of the few times his parents spent time with him. They were very busy with work most of the time, and the ice cream days were the only times he saw both of them together. The rest of the days were spent at home, watching cartoons, playing video games, breaking his various toys and playing with his kitten. The kitten was his delight. This month kitty was orange and liked to get into a lot of mischief.
After she showed an interest in climbing, Erik would help her up onto various high perches around the house. The mantle was particularly fun, because kitty succeeded in knocking down almost everything up there. A lot of stuff broke, but Erik knew that he wouldn't get in trouble. It was kitty who did it, after all, and she'd be gone soon enough. Erik liked to feed kitty from the table during dinnertime with his dad, and he'd giggle as she licked his fingers. Kitty would sleep on his pillow every night and wrestle with him in the morning as he got ready for school. Kitty would cuddle his feet as he ate breakfast with his mom before leaving for school. Erik loved his kitty.
Erik played with kitty every day for close to five weeks, but by the sixth week he started playing his new video games more again, on the sixth week he decided he wanted to finish the latest Resident Evil game, and by the seventh Monday since his parents brought kitty home for their boy, Erik chased the maturing cat out of the house before locking the door and leaving for school. By the end of the week, he'd have a new kitten. He loved kittens. Kittens were cute. He didn't have much use for cats.
****
Alfonse shifted his backpack straps as he walked home. A new girl, Coral, had transferred to his class, and all he could think of was her face, framed by curly hair, and the self-assurance she exhibited even though she was new to the school. He was fascinated. He found a stick on the ground and started fighting off bad guys, whipping off the ripe milkweed pods in old Mister Miller's overgrown front yard, all to rescue the fair damsel Coral. Just as he was about to snatch her from the jaws of the dragon, the evil Doctor Blankership shot him in the back with an arrow. Alfonse wheeled around, gasping, and threw his trusty blade to pierce the blackguard's heart before falling to his knees, overcome by the poison on his nemesis' clothyard. He trembled, quaked, tried to foam at the mouth but gave up after a moment, and expired. Would Coral care? Would she cry? Would she raise a memorial to her fallen hero? Something bumped his leg, and Alfonse opened his eyes. A cat had come up and rubbed against him while he lay there. It wasn't unusual to see a cat around here, of course - there were dozens of the feral animals all over the neighborhood, a fact which drove Mr. Bilagang up the wall - but he'd never seen one come up to him like this. Alfonse got to his feet, looking at the cat curiously as he collected his books and reloaded his backpack. The cat was orange, not quite fully grown, with no collar, and continued to try to rub at his legs. He looked around, at a loss for who around here would have had a cat to lose. Mr. Miller kept dogs who barked all day and ran through the streets at night, crapping all over everything. Mr. Bilagong hated all animals and has succeeded at running over at least a couple of the feral cats that Alfonse had seen. Mrs. Jenkins didn't come out of her house most days, and Alfonse doubted she had the energy to look after such a young animal. Doug was blind and had a great Lab, Jerry, who helped him get around town, but Alfonse had never seen him with a cat. The Uternas had a house full of teenagers all the time, with lots of parties and stuff like that; they couldn't take care of a pet either. Alfonse shrugged; he didn't know whose cat this was, but it sure was nice. He hoped whoever'd lost it would find it again. He crouched down, held out his hand, and gave it a rub on the back when it didn't run away. "Bye, kitty! Hope you find your way home!"
Alfonse had walked a full block, hurrying a little because he was late, before he realized his shoelace had come undone. He'd noticed that Coral's mom came to pick her up from school today, and hoped that she didn't choose that moment to drive past...a car approached and Alfonse stood up and peered at the car while trying to look like he had a reason to be standing in the middle of the block like that. It wasn't Coral. Wasn't her mom's car blue, too? He bent down again and the cat was there, looking at him. "Go home, kitty! Shoo!" Alfonse waved his hand at the cat, who merely blinked. He shook his head and started walking again. After a few steps, he looked back. The cat stopped and licked its paw. "Get out of here!" Alfonse yelled, and ran at the cat so that it had to flee or be trampled. It scampered across the street. Alfonse watched it for a moment, and then, satisfied that it wasn't going to turn around and start following him again, he continued on home. He thought of Coral and felt his face getting hot. He started to run, his body pounding from side to side with the awkward weight of his backpack shifting on his back. He turned left onto Archer Lane and drew up short. The cat was sitting there, next to the juniper bush on the corner. "Wha..?" he began, and the cat walked to him and started rubbing against his shins.
He looked around, making sure that nobody would see him, and then leaned down and scratched behind the cat's ears. "I guess you were feeling lonely, huh?" The cat nuzzled his hand. "You're a good cat. What are you doing away from home?" When he started to remove his hand, the cat pushed up onto its hind legs to push Alfonse's hend with its head. He laughed; he'd never seen a cat do that before. Aunt Clara's cat, Harry, was playful at times, but never this affectionate. After a few minutes more, Alfonse realized how late it was and hurried down the street to his house. "Goodbye, cat! Maybe I'll see you tomorrow!" "
