A Late Night

It was getting late. The new book was waiting by her pillow, just thirty pages read. Two soft blankets were spread out in anticipation. The ball of fur on top of them was purring softly. He was tired of waiting for her. “This was my first party in ages,” she apologised as she changed into her pyjamas. He ignored her. The book stayed closed to show disapproval. But when she slid herself under the covers, the feline child readjusted himself between her ankles and the book opened itself in her hands.

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