cats in the sunlight

They looked up at him with intelligent, unblinking eyes. One had big blue eyes, another had stormy grey eyes, the third, the humbug had black eyes with a line of yellow in them. He looked through the dirty glass at their small cubicle, tinged only with a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The ground was dirty, there seemed to be spots of pee on it. He looked at the mud pit, it did not seem to be saturated. He could feel the stickiness on the floor outside through the hole in his shoe. The boxes were worn down. He missed the fourth one for a brief second, the one that was so terrified that it used to be hiding in those cardboard boxes, and could not be seen from the outside. Then he thought, maybe it has a better life. It had run away, their caretaker had claimed. It was highly likely. The other possibility was that it had died. Either way, it was in a better place. But there were dogs outside this remote compound, maybe it wasn’t in a better place. Footsteps outside the room, huffing and puffing. He turned around and walked away to the sounds of meows at his back.

Having sent the caretaker off to get something else for the experiment, he found himself outside their room again, they were now jumping on the door, a slight scratching sound as their claws collided with the steel door. Eyes intelligent, sparkling, fur fluffy and invited him in. Soft clouds. Footsteps, he turned around. The meows loud.

They finished making the samples. “Ok, let them out.” His voice low, maybe that was why it didn’t echo. The footsteps went towards the door, he closed the one out. A slamming, a grunt, and they rushed out. The one with the black and yellow eyes, the big grey humbug tabby rubbed itself against his pants, he smiled as he imagined the fur that would be left on them, and it purred. The white one, the one with the blue eyes sniffed around. The one with the stormy grey eyes, the skinny Persian ran around the columns. He walked over to the part where the light from the singular bulb shone brightest, and they placed the two clay bowls down. The cats were ravenous, they began to eat, making crunching sounds as they did. A low hum from the grey one, it ate, and then rubbed itself against his legs and then ate, and repeated. He looked at them sadly. After this, they would be closed up, to repeat the same thing again. It was so sad. He winced at the thought. They must be going mad. But they had adapted. And seemed normal and fine. It was sad, regardless. Or was it? Regardless of how they actually felt? They finished. “Feed them,” he turned around and made his way towards his car. The driver was out. He turned around to wait, and saw all three eating outside in the sun. It made him smile.