Missed Day 7?
Today’s prompt: “Someone hands you a small and thoughtful gift. It’s something simple yet meaningful. What is it, and how does it make you feel?”
Today’s music: Burden by David Sanya. 🎧 Listen on SoundCloud.
The Unexpected Gift
I visited Mike’s Meats the next morning. I wasn’t in the market for prime rib, but I was pretty sure I knew someone who was. Mike seemed a no-nonsense man whose smile wasn’t fake and didn’t leave his face. He was happy to talk about the best cuts, and seemed to have strong Nathan Fillion energy in how he wrapped your purchase. I waited for another customer to head out, paper-wrapped packages safely in a satchel, and approached the counter.
He gave me an affable nod. “Howdy, neighbour.”
“Howdy, yourself. I’m after something a little special.”
He didn’t even pause, as if people asking for a special cut was what he lived for. “Fancy occasion?”
“More like a thank-you for the invisible.”
“Huh.” Mike straightened his apron. “They like it lean or fully leaded?”
“I’m guessing lean is the best way. Maybe something like chicken tenderloin?” I waited while he selected a few for me, then said, “What do I owe you?”
“Just a smile, neighbour.”
Well, of course. I smiled, took my package, and headed back outside.
I didn’t have long to wait. It seemed like Hearthlight knew who you wanted to meet, or perhaps who you needed to meet. Hollis’s cat joined me on the square’s bench. Those jade eyes paid me almost no regard at all, fixated as they were on the butcher’s paper package at my side. The cat had not arrived empty-pawed, or in this case, empty-mouthed. It carried a small jewellery box by a dangling ribbon, and offered it to me in exchange.
Unwrapping the chicken tenderloins, I pushed them across the seat. The cat took one, put its ears back, growled at me, then slunk under the seat to chew on its prize. This left me with plenty of time, space, and encouragement to not mess with the eating cat and instead open the jewellery box. It was a ring box, not too heavy, and was quite dirty on the outside, as if someone had buried it for a year then dug it up, with the special intent of trading it for chicken tenderloin.
It might have been something exactly like that.
It rattled when I shook it. Opening it, I found a ring inside. It was a wedding band with a single clear diamond in a white-gold setting.
I closed the box and felt the weight of it in my hand again. The cat had given me a princely gift. It clearly thought this was something needed, perhaps because it’d seen events around it. I thought about the kid and his dead dad, and I thought about how his mum liked Mike the Butcher. I wondered if she’d meant to keep her wedding ring after her husband died, and whether she’d lost it because Hollis’s cat thought it made a neat sound.
Had the cat given me the ring because it thought I should get married? Clearly not. The cat and I didn’t know each other that well; our relationship was almost completely transactional, although there was promise of pats once the growling and chewing stopped. But perhaps the cat had given me the box because it knew someone missed it, and that I was the perfect patsy to hide its crimes behind.
It made sense. I could hardly be blamed for stealing the ring, let alone burying it.
Ah: perfect timing. The kid, the dog, and the mother were approaching the square. The kid, predictably, was a tugboat pulling the flotilla toward Trudy’s gelato store. The dog (and mother, if we’re being honest) were more primed and ready for Mike’s Meats. I stood, plotted my intercept course, and met the three just before she walked into Mike’s. I cleared my throat, and said, “I found this. It’s a little dirty, but I thought you might be missing it.”
She blinked, then gasped as she took the box. Her fingers trembled a little as she opened it. When she saw what was still inside, she smiled like someone remembering the words to a long-forgotten song. “I never thought I’d see it again.” She looked up at me. “Thank you.”
I smiled and nodded, and charted a course back to the bench, and, by association, the cat. I sat, and it leaped into my lap. For a thief, it had scandalously soft fur and a purr smug enough to double as a confession.
Roll result: A gift buried, a purring accomplice, and a smile dusted off after far too long.
XP gained: 1 lost ring restored, 1 guilt-free cuddle earned, and 1 thief of hearts forgiven.
Found a little magic in today’s tail tale? Toss a coin to your writer to keep the cat in tenderloins:
Share this post