Little flash in the night, from the house next to our door. Christmas tree, blinking light, family gathering together; but I looked only briefly ,as I ran down the stairs at ten in the dark night.

Little flash in the night, from the corner of the street. Empty community garden, quiet small alleyway, a small field where factory workers made traffic light, just few days ago, just like any day before this holiday; but I look not for the people, I look for Tabby, and Francesca, whenever she slipped out of the house through the drain at the back of the house.

Little flash in the night, from incoming vehicle, rushing home, going away. Be it for Christmas, or not, everybody is enjoying the coming long weekend; but I look ignorantly as they pass. Since the jerk of the health and safety (plus animal control, he said) threatened Deliso, we came only late at night, because his office will be closed, and no one will harass us, nor our favorite entertainer, and many others, who run to us for their dinner; or perhaps the only meal they have for the day.

Little flash in the night, as we turn our parking ticket and turn away to go home.

Little flash in the night, from the dim porch light of closed shops. Tired of the day, but can’t die out before the end of the night.

Little flash in the night, from a small alley where she passed from one bundle of rubbish to the other, seeking life. Her little feet sore, her face tired, desperate, and hurting, but she walked anyway, though she stops often just to sigh, peering at her tail.

Little flash in the night, from our motorcycle, when we turn around and cross that merciless street where people and animals alike lost their lives because others care only about themselves.

Little flash in the night, as her eyes squint in the middle of that alley; but only little flash, as I rushed toward her, and removed her away from the grip of death. The car that was about to enter the alley stopped long enough, and patient enough to turn off its headlight, to give me the chance to save her.

Some body, some people, big or small, twisted her tail and it broke in the middle. There were no more wounds, no more blood, but she cannot lift her tail without a wince in her tiny eyes and pain that kills her spine.

We feel too sorry for her, we didn’t look. We thought she was male, and named her Flash; after the shape of her broken tail. We took her home, cleaned her and helped her heal.

Little flash in the night, from the field across our door. Firework, cellphone flash, people celebrate the coming new year; but I look only briefly as harsh, cold wind freezes my cheek.

At the far back side of the door behind me, we turned on the only heating pad we can afford to buy, and everybody cuddled to share a few. We do not have trumpets, we do not light fireworks. We ate simple food.

In the middle of the gathering, Flash slept with her tummy up, unlike others. A few hours from now, when people endure their hangover, she will be in the middle of another crowd, lining up for breakfast that our friends and family all over the world afford for us.

Little flash in the night, from the light of the porch, but that glisten was far closer. Far closer as I found out the glimmering bead was our little Flash, playing in the light.

~ Josie

Flash the little Flash to a life long and prosper:

Published by

Josie And The Whiskers' Syndicate

The first and only cat refuge in Bandung (West Java - Indonesia) a capital breeder of a nation without animal welfare law. We care for Bandung's unwanted animals, operate a TNR as much as our budget allows, and continue to educate people about compassion to animals

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