Jemima Cats の小説・ストーリー

And she mewed directly into my mother's face. My mother fell backward, her hand over her heart. "What—" Emma crawled toward her. Not on her hands and knees like a toddler. On all fours, like an animal. Her spine arched. Her head low. She moved across the kitchen floor without a sound, except for the soft click of her fingernails on the tile. "Mew," she said, and this time it was not a question or a cry. It was a statement. A greeting. A warning. I grabbed Emma under the arms and lifted her. She didn't fight. She went limp, like a cat being scruffed. Her eyes never left my mother's face.