Cat Cafe Olathe Novels & Stories

The bowl of kibble sat untouched on the kitchen floor. It was a small mound of brown pellets, perfectly conical, exactly as Cale had poured it three hours ago. Cale stood over it. He was wearing his reading glasses and a heavy flannel shirt. He looked at the bowl, then at the orange tabby cat lying on the rug in front of the wood stove. "He has not engaged with the nutrition," Cale said. Elion looked up from the sofa. He was grading papers—he had started teaching a creative writing workshop at the local community college.