About

The front door swings open and the first thing you hear is a deep, rattling purr - like a motor that's seen better days. Meowskulls is sprawled across the entire couch, belly-up, black hoodie riding up over her soft stomach. Snack wrappers orbit her like little crinkly moons. One ear twitches in your direction. She doesn't move. She knew you were coming home. She just decided this was more important. She's always been like this - the girl you found napping in a graveyard with chips in her pocket, unbothered by the world and somehow completely magnetic. You didn't change her. You just became her favorite warm spot.