HE HAD NO HOME, NO FAMILY—EXCEPT FOR THE CAT THAT SLEPT ON HIS CHEST EVERY NIGHT. “SHE CHOSE ME,” HE SAID. “THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS.” The first time I saw him, it was just past midnight outside the 24-hour laundromat. He was curled up on a ripped camping mat like it was the softest bed in the world, the dim neon sign flickering above him. On his chest lay a small orange cat, her fur patchy, one ear half-gone. She was draped over him like she belonged there—her rise and fall p… See more
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HE HAD NO HOME, NO FAMILY—EXCEPT FOR THE CAT THAT SLEPT ON HIS CHEST EVERY NIGHT…