The Cat He Called Momo
Julian didn’t mean to adopt a cat that night. He went out for dumplings and something sweet to survive a terrible week. Instead, he found a small gray cat in the rain with silver eyes and a suspicious attitude. He named her Momo.There was only one problem. Momo wasn’t actually a cat.
There is an expanded novelette version of this story you can find here: The Night He Found Momo
Julian first found her in the rain behind a convenience store, glaring at him like he had personally offended her by existing.
She was a small grey cat with soft white markings at her ears and tail, soaked through and shivering, though she was trying very hard to look dignified about it. One front paw was tucked up against her chest. Her fur had clumped into wet spikes.
Her eyes were strange, luminous and hard to miss in the blue glare of the alley light. They followed his every movement with obvious suspicion.
He crouched slowly, grocery bag hanging from one wrist.
“Hey,” he said. “You look like you’ve had a rough night.”
The cat flattened her ears.
“Sorry,” Julian amended. “That was rude of me. You look terrifying and powerful and definitely not like you need help.”
Her ears came up again and Julian smiled.
It had been a terrible week. His apartment was in shambles, his job at the architecture firm had become a blur of revisions, and his ex had just moved the last of her things out that morning.
He had not intended to adopt anything. He had only gone out that evening for frozen dumplings, eggs, and something sweet enough to knock the edge off a miserable Thursday.
Then he saw the gray little fur ball.
He opened the grocery bag, took out the rotisserie chicken he had bought on impulse, and peeled off a strip.
The cat’s eyes widened.
“There it is,” Julian murmured.
She tried to maintain her dignity for exactly three seconds before limping forward and snatching the chicken from his hand.
He laughed softly.
By the time the rain worsened into a hard outpour, he had coaxed her into the passenger seat of his car with the rest of the chicken and a great deal of quiet nonsense.
When they reached his apartment, she had curled into the towel he’d set in the seat and fallen asleep with one paw over her nose as if she had always meant to come home with him.
