047: Too Late

3 0 0

I burst into the room, only to find that I was once again too late to stop the horror. She stood in the back, no doubt traumatized by this latest tragedy.
I ran to her, crying, determined to give at least some comfort. She reached down and patted my head.
"Aww, who's a good boy who missed mommy?" She put on a brave face, but I could tell she was suffering.
"We've got to get a stronger latch for the bathroom door," she said to her roommate over breakfast that morning. "The cat got in after I was showering again."

Everyday DrabblesRead this story for FREE!