heaven.
two in two years. I can still feel the skull of the first gettin crushed under my heel, the way she flopped pitifully down the stairs, the horror, the pool of blood. and the second, I can remember her contented purrs in her final days, how she was there. She was part of the environment, something that seemed to never change. Sleeping, always, but she was there, and. fuck. two in two years.