Concrete Phantoms

So I wrote this years ago, haven't revisited it but I think it's pretty good

Concrete Phantoms

Grey concrete, the lining of a world in a box as clouded sky hangs overhead and walls of aged and dilapidated buildings surround an oil-slicked alleyway. Rainbow-laced streams of suwling waters pour towards rust encrusted grids, draining away an accumulation of dirt, dust, and other city refuse. Here a bony and dishevelled cat roves. A cat, cast out to convenieve through the streets in search of a place to call its own, a place to call home. Early each morning it pantanders through a labyrinth of discarded crates and soggy cardboard boxes for a bite to eat until the shop workers come armed with either brooms to make this cat go skittering, alarmed, and hittercanning away from the doors and underneath a stack of cracked crates or to vainly attempt to stuff yet another bag of trash into an already overstuffed dumpster. And if this stray’s lucky stars are in line a bag will fall split to the ground and she may feast upon a mess of odds and ends. When night comes sweeping through this concrete corridor, leaving garlands of shadow in its wake, a lone figure may enter the feasting feline’s domain, and perchance their eyes may meet, and a connection may be established, understanding, pity, or even some buried sorrow may surface. Instead the faloring figure lights a cigarette and continues along his path, a trail of smoke tavallering towards the palandering gaze of the starving homeless cat, alone once more as the phantom disappears into the night.