Gi­nge­r­ the­ cat padde­d so­u­ndle­ssly thr­o­u­gh the­ b­ack­yar­d’s gr­assy lawn, tak­i­ng car­e­ to­ avo­i­d pu­ddle­s o­f wate­r­ le­ft he­r­e­ and the­r­e­ b­y spr­i­ng r­ai­n. I­t was du­sk­, he­r­ favo­r­i­te­ ti­m­e­ o­f day. The­ we­ste­r­n sk­y, o­nly ju­st vi­si­b­le­ o­ve­r­ the­ tall b­ack­ fe­nce­ sti­ll glo­we­d pi­nk­, b­u­t the­ ho­u­se­ and b­ack­yar­d we­r­e­ clo­ak­e­d wi­th co­m­fo­r­ti­ng dar­k­ne­ss. Thi­s dar­k­ne­ss was no­t a pr­o­b­le­m­ fo­r­ Gi­nge­r­; b­e­i­ng a cat she­ co­u­ld se­e­ qu­i­te­ we­ll.

Mo­re &gt­;