(micro-fiction, one minute read)

Jim was thoughtful and silent all evening. He left his laptop unpacked in the hall, missed his favorite program on television, never changed into his favorite home suit, and — what was the most upsetting, of course — did not even come up to the fridge!

Smokey watched him with growing concern. Two times he approached Jim’s leg, rubbed against it and meowed, then he tried to climb up on Jim’s lap, but his friend remained  unresponsive.

Then he spoke on the phone.

Having finished the talk, Jim sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands.

“She just gave birth to a triplet,” he said though his fingers to no one in particular.

Smokey came up and sat near Jim. He wanted to help. He wished he could share his point, but all he could do was rub his head against Jim’s elbow and pur, which meant:

“Come on, pal, don’t panic. I’ve been there. Some day you’ll give them away!”