The old woman in apartment twelve walks to the alley every morning, and sets out a bowl for the neighborhood cats.
She sings a lullabye as she watches them eat.
She has names for each cat.
The son who died in the war.
The daughter who doesn’t call anymore.
She’s gone, too.
Her husband, who owned this building for years… the whole neighborhood too.
Her best friend from school, they used to play in the park. When there was a park.
She’s outlived them all.
When the bowl is empty, she picks it up and goes back to her apartment.