Mommy’s Home

There’s a small orange fluffy cat curled up by the front door.
Two words. Two simple words can make such a difference.
He wants to hear them so badly.
He’s waiting for hours. Or has it been days?
He can’t remember when he last saw her.
It feels like forever.
He sniffs the carpet.
There’s a sound at the front door. He perks his ears up, listens.
Is it her?
No, it’s not her. Just some noise. Or someone else is home.
He sighs, curls back up, and goes back to sleep.
She’ll be home soon, Frisky. I promise you.