it isn't mine

catherine runs her hand from the kitty's head, lightly down along its spine. going with the grain of fur rather than against it. the casual assurance of someone used to petting stuffed animals.

"is this your kitten?" she asks.

slim smiles, the big girl.

"yes. her name is cutie diamond."

catherine lets her hand gracefully fall on slim's head. gently runs fingers though her baby fine hair while they chat.

"i bet you take very good care of her."

"i just brushed her, now we're going to the park."

i take a small step backwards. to let them have this small moment in time. this lovely, normal bit of patter between a slender young woman with honey wheat hair, wearing a sage courderoy jacket, and a slender little girl holding a stuffed calico.

because it's all that i have in my power to give her. a tiny respite. because i can't turn back time, like superman, and stop the earth from shattering. because, in real life, even superman couldn't turn back time and stop his own world shattering. because she is a mother without her boy.

i don't offer the hollow strains of 'he's in a better place' or 'everything happens for a reason.' because those words are bitter to me. i'm afraid to speak. afraid to catch her eye. afraid i'll burst into tears. and she deserves better than my tears on a random tuesday. she deserves so much better.

catherine glances at me. (i want to cuddle slim up into my arms, like a baby. hug her too tight.) i try to give catherine a smile of love that is much bigger than pity. but it's all wrong. because i'm biting the inside of my lip hard enough to draw blood.

"you look so pretty in that jacket." i manage.

"thanks" she says 'it isn't mine."