Young Writers Society

Lost in deepest blue

Endless labyrinths weaving through,

Will you stagger on, with no star to light your way?

Kate Covington, "You're Not Alone"

Hullo. The name's Howie, just Howie. I'm what you'd call a regular cat,

I guess, 'cept for one big thing. I'll tell you in a minute.

Cold. Mind-numbing, bone-chilling cold!

I shivered. The wind was picking up and I needed shelter but good.

Huddling into my fur just wasn't going to cut it.

A quick look-see wouldn't be amiss, I told myself.

Just stay on the ground... I scrabbled up the pile of

boxes stacked against the Human wall. From there it was

a short jump (for a cat) to the ground.

Blast this wind! It tugged at my coat,

tried to yank open my wings. Yes, I did just

say "wings."

Phew. I was in the alley now. Take a breather.

Already my cream-colored fur was heavy from ice

that clung everywhere. I started cleaning it with

a tongue that felt like the stuff those boxes were

made from.