Not Nothing

Irene has been saying "e;fine"e; for twenty years.Fine about the dog she didn't take at the shelter. Fine about the daughter pulling away. Fine about the marriage that runs on silence. Fine about the gray threads she carries on her wrists — regrets she stopped naming a long time ago.Then a cat arrives on a Tuesday.He doesn't talk. He doesn't fix things. He just watches. And when he touches her wri...