day 3

Oscar growled and barked at the back door for probably another fifteen minutes. Marya cooked her pork chops and cut into the chicken breasts to see if they were done. They weren't. She fried the sausages while she was waiting for the chicken to cook through, and laughed at Oscar when he was finally distracted from the cat thing outside. Apparently the smell of hot fried grease could grab his attention.

( You're not getting any of this, she told him. )

words: 1239
total words: 12,085

day 3

Oscar snoozed on the floor and Marya channeled her inner Neil Peart and her inner Keith Moon and even her inner Max Roach, and for a while everything was as it should be.

She played until her arms started to get tired and Oscar got up to wander around the house. She was exhausted and sweaty and felt like she'd done something really productive for herself. She was also hungry.

Oscar had gone into the living room and was sprawled on the couch, which he technically wasn't supposed to do, but Marya didn't usually bother to shove him off and her grandma had conceded a couple of years ago that the couch was no longer really hers and if Oscar wanted to sit on it, he could. Marya figured he was either waiting for her to turn the TV on so he could watch something interesting or he just wanted to snooze somewhere besides the floor. She always wondered if he could feel the vibrations from her kit through the floor, and if it bothered him at all.

( It was still raining outside.  )

words: 1402
total words: 13,488