Henry’s parents spent the day talking about his grandmother. He heard them in the kitchen from the living room. He didn’t understand all of the words, but it couldn’t be good if his dad said she should move, and his mom cried because she used to be so aware but now just made up stories about seeing dancing cats. Tears flowed from Henry’s eyes thinking that they were sending his grandmother away like they did his dog when he got old. After dinner, he spent the rest of the day in his room avoiding his parents.
“Why are you sending Grandma away?” he asked when his mom came in that night to tuck him in.
“She’s getting old, honey,” his mom said with a sigh. “You won’t understand, but you will when you are getting older.”
He rolled over, so his mother couldn’t see the tears pouring from his young eyes. She closed the door as she left, and he waited until the house was quiet to creep into his grandmother’s room. She was sitting in her rocking chair next to the window looking down into their back garden.
“Shhh,” she whispered, putting a finger up to her lips and motioned for Henry to come sit on her lap.
She helped him up and settle in, then whispered “look” into his ear, pointing to the garden.
He leaned over and gasped. There in the back garden, in the tall grass, was the neighbor’s cat dancing under the midnight moon.
“Mom’s not going to believe this,” Henry whispered, smiling.
This was written for the 3TC prompts: cat, grass, midnight